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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217106">I could shape the light this way</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelveticaBrown/pseuds/HelveticaBrown'>HelveticaBrown</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Once Upon a Time (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, those law and order svu feels, tw: contains references to rape/sexual assault</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:28:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>25,742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26217106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelveticaBrown/pseuds/HelveticaBrown</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina Mills is the latest in a long line of ADAs for the Special Victims Unit. And based on the clashes she has with one Detective Emma Swan, she won't be the last. </p><p>Inspired by kahlen369's amazing artwork, created for SQ Supernova V.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>194</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Swan Queen Supernova V: Forever Starstruck</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25932439">I could shape the light this way [Art]</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/kahlen369/pseuds/kahlen369">kahlen369</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>It's been a while since I've managed to finish any writing, so getting this done (just in the nick of time) feels like a huge relief. Thank you to Kahlen369 for making something so awesome that it got me back into the groove of writing. It was an honour to create something to sit alongside your artwork and I hope you enjoy it. (Hello, by the way, I'm sorry I'm so flaky!)</p><p>Thank you also to the awesome mods who somehow manage to wrangle us all together to keep creating things for this beautiful ship.</p><p>A few disclaimers:<br/>Firstly, given the inspiration for this fic, this story contains references to and discussions of sexual assault/rape. If this is something that will make you feel unsafe, please don't read it. There are plenty of other awesome fics in this challenge that might be safer for you<br/>Secondly, if you're a fan of Hook, this won't be your jam. He's really not very nice in this.<br/>Thirdly, I'm not sure I can write a story that so heavily features the police without acknowledging Black Lives Matter and the way that fictional media depictions of police can be used to help legitimise their behaviours. It's not something I've specifically addressed in this fic, because I honestly wouldn't know where to start, but I'm aware that by writing this story I may, in a small way contribute to perpetuating this narrative. All of which is a long-winded way of saying that if reading about cops right now could be harmful to your wellbeing, this may not be the story for you</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p>“Hey, did you hear? We’re getting a new ADA,” Mulan says as she drops a coffee cup and a paper bag on Emma’s desk.</p><p>Emma groans. “Not another one. We’d almost broken in the last one.” She peeks inside the bag, satisfied to find her usual order of a bear claw tucked away safely inside.</p><p>“Well, if you’d stop driving them away...” The smirk Mulan offers is completely unhelpful and if she hadn’t just provided Emma with sugary sustenance she’d probably be looking for ways to exact some form of minor retribution on her colleague.</p><p>“Hey, it’s not my fault Kathryn decided to move back to Boston to be with her high school sweetheart. And I definitely had nothing to do with Victor Whale faking his qualifications, even if I was the one who found him out.”</p><p>They haven’t had the greatest luck with ADAs in the last couple of years; most of them haven’t lasted more than a couple of months, between the particular demands of working the cases the Special Victims Unit attracts and a variety of other circumstances ranging from the mundane to the bizarre.</p><p>“So who are we getting? Marian Alvarez, maybe?” Emma asks, a little slyly.</p><p>“If only.” Mulan sighs heavily, a faraway look in her eyes.</p><p>Emma stifles a laugh. Mulan’s crush on the Major Crimes ADA has been the topic of more than a few teasing conversations over beers at Granny’s. And honestly, even though she doesn’t have quite the same kind of admiration for her as Mulan, Emma would trade her entire collection of leather jackets to have Marian on their side. Her reputation for being brilliant, hardworking and compassionate is unmatched in the department and she’d be an incredible asset to their team.</p><p>“We’re getting Regina Mills,” Mulan says, as if the name should mean something to her.</p><p>Emma frowns. The name sounds familiar, but she can’t quite place it. “Was she working the Organised Crime job a couple of years back?”</p><p>Mulan shakes her head. “No, she’s Cora Mills’ daughter. She’s been working in Maine for the past few years.”</p><p>“Oh.” Emma’s not sure how to feel about that. The Mayor is not the sort of person anyone with an ounce of sense would ever cross and she can’t help but wonder if her daughter is anything like her. If she is, they’ve got a rocky time ahead of them.</p><p>*****</p><p>Regina looks around her still-unfamiliar office. She hasn’t been here long enough to personalise things, not that she’s ever been one for knick-knacks. There’s her degree on the wall, a generic coffee mug on her desk and a scattering of files and pens. There’s not even a token photo frame, not that she has anyone or anything she’d want to display.</p><p>She’d been reluctant to move back to New York, back to her mother’s sphere of influence, but things in Maine had blown up much too quickly for her to have the luxury of choosing where she went if she wanted a job any time soon. Leopold’s power as the leader of the Maine State Senate meant that there was not a single door open to her locally, even if she’d wanted to stay. And when she’d looked further afield she’d found herself blacklisted in a surprising number of places.</p><p>If she could have fled to the other side of the country she would have, but her mother’s magic and the binding she’d placed on her meant she couldn’t run too far. She’d tried exactly once, and the result had been a trip to hospital with excruciating chest pain that had settled until she’d been safely back within her mother’s reach. Maine had been just about as far as it would stretch, and even then she’d largely only been there by her mother’s grace and the fact that marrying Leopold White aligned well enough with her plans.</p><p>It had been sheer luck that the New York SVU job had come up just at the time she needed an escape route after the breakdown of her marriage and that she’d reconnected with Marian Alvarez at a conference a couple of months earlier. They’d gone to law school together, rivals at first, then friends and briefly something more, before falling out of touch.</p><p>The job was a lifeline and Marian’s recommendation had been enough to get her a foot in the door. Her mother’s name, even though she hadn’t actually been involved (as far as Regina was aware), was enough to get her the rest of the way. All that she can hope is that in a city this big, with as much power as she’s accrued, her mother will have other things to occupy her mind beyond controlling the minutiae of her daughter’s life.</p><p>As if summoned by her thoughts, Marian pokes her head around the door frame. “Wow, it’s really homey in here. I like what you’ve done with the place,” she says, tapping the side of a half-unpacked box of textbooks and reference material with the mug she’s carrying.</p><p>“If this job doesn’t pan out, I’m sure there’s a career in interior design beckoning,” Regina deadpans back.</p><p>“I thought it was about time we officially warmed your office,” Marian says, producing a bottle of scotch with her other hand. She pours a healthy slug into Regina’s mug and a little less for herself. She takes a sip and sits down across from Regina.</p><p>“So how have the first few weeks been?”</p><p>Regina sighs, because so far she’s managed to argue with pretty much every member of the Special Victims Unit at least once, and she’s pretty sure if she mysteriously disappeared tomorrow, every one of them would be breaking out the champagne and streamers. Particularly Emma Swan.</p><p>She picks up her mug and eyes the contents a little suspiciously.</p><p>“It’s good, I promise. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, and this seemed like it might be the right time.”</p><p>She takes a sip and then another after the first goes down a little too smoothly. Marian wasn’t wrong about its quality.</p><p>“I’m starting to wonder if I made the right choice, if I’m the right fit for SVU. The detectives have made it abundantly clear that I’m the last person on earth they want to work with.” She nearly drains her coffee mug with the next sip, thinking about everything that’s gone wrong in the last few weeks.</p><p>“It’s been hard for them; they haven’t really had someone filling this chair on any kind of regular basis for the last few years and honestly, the powers that be haven’t really wanted to put the effort in to make sure we’ve been getting the most out of them. I think I’ve probably covered more of their cases in the past two years than some of the ADAs who were actually supposed to be assigned to them.”</p><p>Marian leans over and tops up her drink. “They’ll come around, though. They’re a good team and they really just need someone who’s going to stand by them and put in the work.”</p><p>“I hope so.”</p><p>“You’re a good lawyer, Regina, and it won’t take them long to see that.”</p><p>*****</p><p>“Here comes trouble,” Neal murmurs.</p><p>Emma has just enough time to look up from the file she’s reading to clock one ADA Mills storming through the bullpen like a woman on a mission a mere moment before she reaches her desk.</p><p>She’s only been on the job a few weeks and as far as Emma’s concerned, it’s a few weeks too many. Her fears about working with Cora Mills’ daughter hadn’t been at all unfounded. Her first impression that Regina Mills was rigid, overbearing and on the world’s biggest power trip had only been cemented by every interaction that had come afterwards, and in her head (and maybe sometimes out loud in earshot of the rest of the squad) she’d taken to calling her the Evil Queen.</p><p>They’d started off completely on the wrong foot, and nothing about that had changed in the intervening days. It hadn’t been her fault that she’d parked Regina in at the first crime scene she’d showed up to and it certainly hadn’t been her fault that an overzealous uni had then her car towed, not realising who it belonged to. Nonetheless, it had been the first in a series of real and imagined slights that has had Regina riding her ever since.</p><p>“Miss Swan, I’m going to need you to do better than this.” She slaps a file down on Emma’s desk. Emma glances at it: it’s the MacKinnon case. She knows she and Neal have done good work on it and they’re in with a real shot of getting a conviction so she can’t imagine why Regina’s suddenly on the warpath about it.</p><p>“<em>Detective</em> Swan,” Emma snarls. There’s something about Regina Mills that makes her grind her teeth in her sleep, and sitting here, wide awake, with the very object of her annoyance standing over her desk sporting something between a smirk and a glare, Emma’s pretty sure she’s going to need to start saving for false teeth really soon.</p><p>Regina perches on the edge of Emma’s desk and looks down her nose at her.</p><p>“Perhaps if you did something worthy of the title, I might be a little more inclined to call you Detective.”</p><p>Emma does her very best to look relaxed and in control by leaning back in her chair and kicking her feet up onto the desk. She mostly just succeeds in almost falling off her chair and messing up the paperwork she’s spent half the morning working her way through.</p><p>She has the sudden urge to knock over the half-empty cup of coffee sitting on her desk barely half a foot from where Regina Mills’ shapely, Armani-clad ass is currently parked and sit back and watch the carnage. The fact that her suit probably cost more than Emma makes in a month and Regina is exactly the kind of person who’d send her an invoice to cover its replacement is the only thing that stops her.</p><p>“What exactly would you like me to do?” She tries to keep her tone as even as possible, even though she mostly just wants to push Regina off her desk and tell her to get the hell out. Or maybe push her back onto her desk and find other ways to stop her from talking. She blinks a couple of times, trying to banish the image of kissing Regina Mills senseless and speechless out of her mind so she can focus on the conversation at hand. She’s not entirely successful.</p><p>“I’d like you to give me a case that I can stand up and argue without Judge Gold laughing me out of his courtroom.”</p><p>“I know he did it.” And she truly does, because she’s always had a knack for knowing when people are lying.</p><p>There’s more to it than just that – of course there is – but Emma feels uncharacteristically off balance when Regina is looking at her like this. No matter how she tries, she can’t quite pull together the words she needs, can’t talk about the leads she’s followed, the final witness she’s this close to getting over the line who she knows will make the case.</p><p>She wonders if this is what it feels like to be the accused sitting on the stand when Regina Mills stands up in court and focuses every bit of her formidable attention on breaking them down. She’s only seen Regina prosecute a handful of cases so far, but she’s seen enough to know that she’s brilliant at her job and more than a little bit terrifying.</p><p>“Well I’m going to need a lot more than the gut feelings of a junior detective if I’m going to get a conviction.”</p><p>Regina stands up and straightens her skirt and Emma hates that she can’t help but watch the action with more than a little interest.</p><p>“I expect you to have fixed this by Friday,” she says as she leaves, not waiting for a response from Emma.</p><p>Emma watches her walk out and then throws her screwed-up lunch wrapper and remains of her sandwich at the bin with a little (okay, a lot) more force than necessary. The shot lands, but knocks it over in the process and the remnants of yesterday’s lunch that she barely got to take a bite of spill out onto the floor.</p><p>“Fuck.” She gets down on the floor and sweeps up the mess of balled up paper, sandwich crusts and old chow mein back into the bin. “What the hell is her problem, anyway?”</p><p>“The problem is that you two need to hurry up and bone.” Lance is sitting at his desk and he looks down at her cleaning up the mess, looking smugly pleased with himself.</p><p>“Have you gone insane?” Emma stops and stares at him, no longer paying attention to the fact that she’s got her hands full of day-old Chinese food.</p><p>Lance grins at her. “Just an observation. I mean she sure as hell doesn’t ever sit on the edge of my desk. She usually tells me off from the other side of the room if she talks to me at all.”</p><p>Emma looks over at Mulan for support. She finds it sorely lacking. “I’m not sure Her Majesty even knows that I exist,” Mulan adds helpfully. “Lance is right. You two definitely need to bone.”</p><p>“Have you both been smoking something?”</p><p>Neal’s sitting quietly at his desk watching the madness and when she looks to him he just shrugs.</p><p>“Seriously, you too?”</p><p>She wishes she’d saved the remains of her sandwich to throw at one or all of them. Instead, her grumbling at the betrayal of her partner and the rest of the squad is cut short when Lieutenant Nolan emerges from his office.</p><p>“We’ve got a case. Emma, Neal, I want you out there now.”</p><p>*****</p><p>Regina storms into her office, nearly taking Marian out on the way. Emma Swan may actually be the single most infuriating human being she’s ever had the displeasure of working with. Just thinking about her with her boots up on her desk, absurdly tight tank top and jeans and unreasonably cocky expression is enough to send Regina’s blood pressure up.</p><p>“Woah, what’s up?”</p><p>Regina ignores the question and throws the files she’s carrying onto her desk. Some of the pages spill out onto her desk and she irritably shoves them back into the folder, before sitting down and booting up her computer.</p><p>“Regina?”</p><p>Regina finally responds to Marian’s question. “If I get arrested for the murder of Emma Swan, will you be a character witness for me?”</p><p>Marian laughs, clearly not taking her seriously. “Surely it’s not going to come to that?”</p><p>“Don’t count on it,” Regina mutters darkly.</p><p>“Okay.” Marian sits down and looks at her, one eyebrow raised. “So what exactly did she do to make you want to add the premature demise of Emma Swan to my already enormous caseload?”</p><p>“Does she have to have done something specific, or can it just be literally every single thing about her?” She doesn’t quite know what it is about Emma that particularly grinds her gears, but the simple fact is every time she’s in her presence, she can’t help but react.</p><p>Marian tilts her head to one side and looks at her appraisingly. “Do you feel this way about the rest of the SVU?”</p><p>Regina shrugs. “I don’t know. They’re not the worst detectives I’ve worked with,” she says noncommittally.</p><p>“So just Emma then? Interesting…”</p><p>Regina doesn’t like Marian’s tone. It sounds like she’s figured something out that Regina’s sure she isn’t going to want to hear.</p><p>“Out of curiosity, what was Emma wearing today?”</p><p>“White tank top, dark wash blue jeans, black boots. Her red leather jacket was on the corner of the desk,” Regina answers without really thinking about it.</p><p>“Okay. And what was Nolan wearing today?”</p><p>Regina frowns. “I don’t know. He’s the whitest, most non-descript man alive. Probably a button-down shirt and pants. Maybe some shoes.”</p><p>“Tie or no tie?”</p><p>“Tie?” Regina says, more trying to convince herself that she remembered. She’d spoken to Lieutenant Nolan briefly this morning, but she’d been too distracted by the sight of Emma Swan being a giant pain in her ass and cut the conversation short.</p><p>Marian hums to herself for a moment then nods her head. “It sounds like you’re particularly interested in Emma. Any thoughts on why that might be?”</p><p>This conversation definitely isn’t heading where Regina was expecting and she definitely doesn’t want to acknowledge what Marian is implying. “What I’m interested in is her doing her job. Like last week when she searched a property before the warrant was issued.”</p><p>“Didn’t you tell me last week that was a clerical error? That the warrant was actually processed an hour earlier and the Judge’s associate wrote the wrong time on it.”</p><p>She doesn’t like it when Marian uses logic on her. “It doesn’t matter. She should have checked. And maybe that wasn’t her fault,” Regina concedes, “but today when I questioned her about a case, all she could tell me was she knew the suspect did it.”</p><p>“She’s got good instincts.”</p><p>“Instincts don’t stand up in court. You know that.”</p><p>“I do. But from my experience working with her, she has the kind of instincts that often lead her to the answers and the evidence we need. Those kind of instincts do stand up in court.” Marian shakes her head. “Honestly, I don’t know how she does it sometimes.”</p><p>“Is she dirty?” In Regina’s experience, cops who are a little too good at closing cases often resort to dubious methods.</p><p>“Not a chance.” Marian’s defence of Emma is fierce and unhesitating and Regina wonders if maybe she’s let their early interactions colour her judgment a little too much.</p><p>“Have you had a coffee yet today?” Marian asks in a welcome reprieve from her previous line of questioning, even if Regina presumes the implication is that she’s being a cranky bitch.</p><p>“No. The line downstairs was too long.” Regina squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, because the niggling headache she’s had most of the morning is suddenly making sense.</p><p>“Shall we fix that? Before you set your heart on murdering anyone else, like me, or literally anyone else who crosses your path today?”</p><p>Regina laughs. “Honestly, if anyone gets between me and a coffee right now, I won’t be able to guarantee their safety.” It’s barely an exaggeration. And maybe Marian’s right. Maybe her caffeine-deprivation is part of the problem.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Who’s the vic?” Neal asks as they pull into the lot at Manhattan Memorial.</p><p>“Sarah Morgan. She’s a college student and apparently her father owns half the furniture stores in New York.”</p><p>They walk through the ER and one of the nurses directs them to a room tucked off to the side. There’s a uniformed officer by the door holding an evidence bag and she nods in their direction when she sees them.</p><p>They open the door and there’s a young woman sitting on the examination bed in a standard-issue hospital gown, elaborate make-up ruined by a mix of dried blood and tears. Emma winces at the sight of the dried blood on her earlobe and the signs of fresh bruising around her throat.</p><p>The hospital social worker sitting in a chair beside the bed briefly nods at them in acknowledgement.</p><p>Neal usually lets her take point on these. He hovers in the background unobtrusively taking notes while Emma talks to the victim, to <em>Sarah</em>.</p><p>Emma grabs a chair from the corner of the room and sits down, making herself as approachable and open as she can be.</p><p>“Hi Sarah, I’m Detective Emma Swan and this is my partner Neal Cassidy. Before we start, is there anyone else you want here to support you?”</p><p>“No. I don’t want anyone else to know. Not right now.” She puts her head in her hands. “God, Dad’s going to freak when he finds out. He didn’t want me going in the first place.”</p><p>The social worker interjects and Emma’s grateful for the assist. “We can discuss strategies about how to talk to people in your life about what’s happened, if and when you choose to. I think the most important thing now is to tell the police what happened.”</p><p>Emma gives her a moment longer and then starts her interview. “Sarah, can you tell me what happened last night?”</p><p>“He hurt me,” she says, and Emma can see she’s already on the verge of shutting down.</p><p>“Why don’t you start at the beginning. What were you doing earlier?”</p><p>“My friends and I, we were at a convention – FirstCon – have you heard of it?”</p><p>Emma shakes her head.</p><p>“It was my first one and I’d been looking forward to it for months, because most of the cast of First Tales were going to be there.”</p><p>“Okay, tell me more about your day.”</p><p>“We went to a couple of panels in the morning and then there were photo ops and autograph signings in the afternoon, before the concert.”</p><p>“Did you meet your attacker at any of those?”</p><p>She shakes her head.</p><p>“And what happened next?”</p><p>“It was pretty late when the concert finished, but we all went down to the hotel bar for a couple of drinks before bed. My friends decided to go back up to the room, but I stayed a little longer to finish my drink.” She looks up at Emma for a moment, painfully young and vulnerable. “I don’t really drink very often so I was taking my time.”</p><p>“And then?”</p><p>“<em>He</em> sat down next to me and started talking to me. I… I thought he was nice and I couldn’t believe he was interested in talking to me. He said there was a VIP afterparty upstairs and that if I was with him, I could get in.”</p><p>“And you went with him?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Sarah’s looking down at her hands, picking at the edges of her nails. “I thought it would be fun. Except, when we got upstairs to his room, there wasn’t anyone else there.”</p><p>She pauses for a long moment and Emma resists the urge to prompt her, lets her take the time she needs.</p><p>“He poured me a drink from the minibar. It was straight rum. I drank it too fast and started coughing; I was nervous and I didn’t know what to expect. He sat down next to me like he was going to comfort me, but that wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t even let me catch my breath. And then…” She stops and there’s a look in her eyes that Emma’s seen. “I don’t know if I can do this.”</p><p>“It’s okay, you can take as much time as you need. If you need a break, we can come back to this later,” Emma says gently. “Do you need something to drink?”</p><p>There’s a pained smile at that. “Have you got something that’ll make me forget?”</p><p>“Unfortunately I think we’re limited to water, tea and bad coffee. Maybe a soda from the vending machine in the hall.”</p><p>She shakes her head. “No. I just want to get this over with so I can go home and have the longest shower of my life and not wake up for the next month.”</p><p>“What else can you tell me about what happened tonight?”</p><p>“What else is there to say? He raped me.”</p><p>Emma hates this part, the moment where she has to dig into the details, ask the victim to walk her through crime. It doesn’t matter how careful, how sensitive she is, she knows she’s asking them to give her an action replay of their trauma and this time’s no different.</p><p>Everything Sarah’s said makes Emma’s blood boil, but she has to keep herself in check, has to silently communicate nothing but openness and objectivity.</p><p>“Is there anything you can tell us that would help to identify your attacker?”</p><p>Sarah looks straight at her, silent tears giving way to brittle rage. “Oh, I know who it was. Killian Jones.”</p><p>It’s the truth, Emma can feel it. Not that she makes a habit of disbelieving victims of violence, but there’s a clarity and a certainty there that lights up Emma’s senses.</p><p>She tries not to let her thoughts show on her face, because the fact that one of the biggest television stars of the moment has just been accused of rape is about to make things hellishly complicated.</p><p>“Do you know what the room number was?”</p><p>“I don’t remember.” She rubs her eyes and Emma can tell they’re not going to get much more out of her.</p><p>“Did you talk to anyone else about what happened?”</p><p>“Just the friend I was sharing a room with. She’s the one who convinced me to come here. I didn’t know what to do when I got back to my room; I just sat there in the dark stuck inside my own head for hours.”</p><p>“Is she waiting outside?”</p><p>“She’s got a flight back to Vermont today. She came with me and waited for a while, but she had to go back to the room to pack.”</p><p>“Okay. We’ll try to catch her before she leaves.” Emma stands up, briefly squeezes Sarah’s shoulder. “We’ll need to talk to you again, but in the meantime, you should try to get some rest.”</p><p>*****</p><p>The drive over to the hotel takes longer than it should. There’s roadworks every way they turn and Emma calls one of the squad cars closer by to try and secure the scene.</p><p>“This is going to be messy,” Neal says.</p><p>“You’re not wrong. If the perp was anyone else, this’d be open and shut. There’s clear evidence of force, but I have a feeling it’s not gonna be that easy.”</p><p>“Do you think he’s done this before?”</p><p>“No question. I’m sure he has. Guys like this never stop at one and it all sounds too practiced for this to be his first time.”</p><p>The traffic clears and they finally make it to the hotel. The uni they sent ahead is still at concierge arguing with the manager.</p><p>Neal approaches the desk and flashes his badge. “We need access to the room Killian Jones was staying in last night.”</p><p>“I’m afraid I can’t give out that information. We take the privacy of our guests very seriously.” The manager in question is overly officious and Emma can tell he’s going to be a pain in the ass.</p><p>“And we take allegations of criminal actions very seriously.” Emma butts in, because Neal’s softly-softly approach doesn’t seem like it’s going to get them anywhere fast. “This isn’t a request. You <em>are</em> going to tell us which room he stayed in and then you’re going to take my colleague and I up there along with our technicians and you’re going to let us do our jobs. And then, you’re going to compile all of your security footage for the last 48 hours and have it ready by the time we get back down here.”</p><p>“I assume you have a warrant.”</p><p>Emma takes a deep breath and wills herself to be calm. This shouldn’t be so hard.</p><p>“Not yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Of course, you could just choose to cooperate with us and then we’ll be out of the foyer of your hotel a lot sooner. I’m sure your guests would appreciate being able to go about their business without the NYPD watching them all day.”</p><p>He hesitates for a moment, then nods and they follow him to the elevators.</p><p>They reach the room. It’s on the top floor and when the manager opens the door, Emma can see that it’s already been cleaned.</p><p>Emma sighs and there’s a look of frustration on Neal’s face that mirrors her own. Hotels are the worst crime scenes. There’s either nothing to find, or enough samples to process to keep the lab busy until next year.</p><p>It’s times like these Emma wishes her magic was a bit more useful than just giving her a sense of when people are lying or not. She clutches at the stone pendant around her neck that her foster-mother had given her when she’d first discovered she had magic. It had been supposed to help Emma learn to focus her power but she had died before she could teach Emma what she needed to learn.</p><p>She carefully makes her way through the rest of the suite not finding anything obvious.</p><p>Neal’s on the floor, peering under the bed. “I think I’ve got something. Can someone pass me an evidence bag?”</p><p>He emerges a short time later with a small hoop earring and a sock that’s unlikely to belong to either their victim or their perp. He shrugs. “Maybe it’ll be useful.”</p><p>They don’t stay around much longer, leaving the techs to finish processing the scene so that they can head back to the station to begin the arduous task of combing through the hotel’s security footage.</p><p>Mulan groans when Emma dumps a pile of tapes in front of her. “You’d better be ordering pizza.”</p><p>“Just think of it as a chance for us to spend some quality time together. It’s not like either of us have anyone to go home to.”</p><p>“Speak for yourself, Swan. I’ve got a sixty-inch flat-screen and three dead plants to keep me company. And sometimes my neighbour’s cat gets stuck outside and lets me pat her.”</p><p>Emma slumps down into her chair. “I stand corrected. Unlike me, you have a deeply fulfilling life full of love and joy and contentment. You should go home, be with your plants, while I suffer here alone.”</p><p>Mulan narrows her eyes. “There’d better be a pepperoni in that order. <em>And</em> garlic bread.”</p><p>“Do I look like a heathen? Of course there’ll be garlic bread.”</p><p>After hours of mindlessly scrolling through footage of drunken encounters, over-enthusiastic cosplayers and the occasional bemused traveller, they have a reasonable picture of Jones’ movements during the convention. They have the footage that confirms Sarah accompanied him to his room. They also have footage of three other encounters Jones had over the days of the convention and Emma almost throws up her pepperoni at the evidence of what a creep he is.</p><p>It’s not much, but it’s a start.</p><p>*****</p><p>Regina’s not sure what to expect when she’s summoned to the District Attorney’s office for an urgent meeting. It certainly wasn’t the news that they’re opening an investigation into Killian Jones for sexual assault.</p><p>It’s a measure of the quality (or lack thereof) of her working relationship with the SVU that she’s hearing about the case from the District Attorney instead of her own detectives.</p><p>She sits in the chair District Attorney Reul-Ghorm indicates and tries not to let her reaction show at how uncomfortable it is. She’s very quickly learned her new boss is the kind of person who enjoys watching people squirm and relishes whatever power she can exert, no matter how small.</p><p>“We need to tread carefully with this one. The city can’t afford a lawsuit, and unless we’ve got a solid case we don’t want to pull the trigger too early.”</p><p>“So we’re going to give him special treatment just because he’s famous?” The words taste bitter in Regina’s mouth and it’s a struggle to keep her voice even, to try not to spit them out, because she knows all too well the liberties powerful men are afforded.</p><p>The DA shakes her head. “No, we’re going to build a watertight case and prosecute accordingly. And if we don’t have a case, then we’re going to try not to ruffle any feathers. I need you to keep a tight leash on the Special Victims Unit; they have a bad habit of ignoring the prevailing realities of the cases they catch.”</p><p>“Understood,” Regina grinds out, even though she’s not sure how she’s going to keep a leash on herself, let alone the SVU.</p><p>She knows the DA’s position is a political one, but from her short time in New York, she’s come to realise that District Attorney Reul-Ghorm is a little too concerned with politics and power-plays, with the victims of crime and their needs coming a distant second.</p><p>She heads back to her office and grabs her things; she was planning to stay back late to catch up on some of the endless pile of work on her desk, but suddenly she can’t handle the thought of being here a minute longer. She wants nothing more than to go home, have the world’s longest shower and sip apple cider in her pyjamas while watching something mindless on TV.</p><p>She runs into Marian on the way to the elevators. “Hey, want to grab something to eat,” Marian says as they reach the car park in the basement.</p><p>Regina hesitates, almost saying yes because maybe some good company is what she really needs, but then she spots the car idling in the car park.</p><p>She hasn’t seen her mother since she came back to New York and although she knew the summons would come eventually, she was secretly hoping it never would. It’s just the thing she needs to cap off her day.</p><p>She forces a reluctant smile. “I should get home. Raincheck?”</p><p>Marian frowns, clearly picking up on some of her discomfort. “Everything okay?”</p><p>“Of course. It’s been a long day, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” The lie comes easily, because all of those things are true. She’s just failing to add the bit where her psychopath of a mother is likely going to spend the evening tormenting her.</p><p>For a moment, she almost considers seeking sanctuary with Marian. But she knows what her mother is like and she doesn’t want to get Marian caught in the crossfire of her ongoing war of defiance against her mother’s control.</p><p>Marian seems to buy it. “I feel you. Can’t wait to get these shoes off.”</p><p>Regina forces a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>She watches Marian walk to her car and get in, waits until she’s driven out before approaching the black Bentley that’s waiting for her.</p><p>She doesn’t get a chance to change her mind, the driver hopping out and opening the rear door for her before she can think better of it. She sits in the back, closes her eyes and listens to the familiar purr of the engine of her mother’s favourite car, wondering where her mother is planning to meet her.</p><p>It’s been three years since she’s seen her mother, and almost as long since she spoke to her. She would have gladly gone just as long again, but necessity has forced her hand. She wonders which version of her mother she’ll be meeting tonight: the consummate politician, the warped facsimile of a loving mother, the spiteful bitch, or some combination of the three.</p><p>They pull up to her mother’s townhouse. At least she hasn’t been dragged out to the country estate.</p><p>She steps through the doors into the familiar oppressive air. She can feel her mother’s binding tug at her, stronger than ever, and she walks without thinking into the next room where her mother is waiting for her.</p><p>Cora looks up from the paperwork she’s signing. “Hello dear. You don’t call, you don’t write. It’s enough to make a mother feel unloved.”</p><p>She takes the seat opposite her mother and tries not to let her discomfort show.</p><p>“I’m afraid I’ve been a little pre-occupied recently, Mother. Moving states and starting a new job has been taking up all of my attention.”</p><p>“Of course.” Cora smiles sweetly. “I understand you’ve been very busy ruining your marriage.”</p><p>Regina doesn’t let herself react. That was fast. She’d expected at least a few more pleasantries before her mother started lobbing grenades at her.</p><p>“There was no marriage to ruin. I was just another pawn in one of your infernal games and Leopold was a gambit you used to consolidate your power.”</p><p>It had taken her a while to see that. At first, Leopold had seemed like a safe option, a way to escape her mother’s influence. He’d agreed to her own proposal of a sham marriage, happy enough to have a young woman by his side at functions and in front of the press, right until he’d decided that arrangement wasn’t enough for him. She wills herself not to think any further, because she knows her mother will pick up on even the slightest vulnerability.</p><p>“This is the way things are done, Regina. I owed someone a favour and your marriage to Leopold settled that debt.” She says it so casually, as if that one move hadn’t spelled the ruin of Regina’s life. Not that there had been much of a life to ruin in the first place with the control Regina had always been subject to.</p><p>“You could have used his power to build your own, much like I did,” she continues, heedless of the distress Regina is in.</p><p>“I was barely more than a child. What power could I possibly have hoped to gain in a marriage to a man three times my age?” Regina wills herself not to cry, refuses to show any sign of weakness in front of her mother, knowing how she feeds on it.</p><p>Cora studies her face for a moment, then leans across the desk to cup Regina’s chin gently in her hand. “He hurt you, didn’t he?” she asks softly, and for a moment, Regina can almost believe in the love of her mother. The transformation is instantaneous, effortless and that’s what has always made Cora Mills so terrifying.</p><p>“I could destroy him for you. Tear his worthless heart out. Or pull his kingdom down brick by brick until he’s left playing in the dirt.”</p><p>Regina knows she could do it. She’s seen first-hand just how much her mother is capable of. She knows there are lives and livelihoods that have been destroyed with even less thought than she would put into choosing what she has for breakfast. She knows, because the only person she’d ever loved had been a victim of one of Cora Mills’ schemes. She knows, because her father had finally given up on life when Regina had been eight leaving Regina to her mother’s tender mercies.</p><p>“No thank you, Mother. My divorce has been finalised and I want nothing more to do with him.”</p><p>Cora shakes her head and her fingers which had been gentle are now bruising, digging into Regina’s jaw. “Your father was a weakling. I should never have diluted my blood with his; after all, it’s not unexpected that the result was disappointing.”</p><p>“Have you finished, Mother?” Regina holds her gaze unflinchingly, not allowing herself to register the pain of Cora’s grip and refusing to react to the attack on her father’s character.</p><p>Cora’s grip slackens a little and the sweet, poisonous smile is back. “For now.”</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a long week working the Jones case and Emma wants nothing more than to sleep for an entire day, but she’s conscious she’s been neglecting one of her favourite responsibilities.</p><p>She walks the couple of miles to the group home on Storybrooke Avenue, because she’s not sure she’s safe to drive at this point. One of the carers frowns when she walks in, but recognises her a moment later and waves her through with a smile.</p><p>“Hey, kid. Wanna go get a burger and let me kick your ass at some games?”</p><p>Henry laughs at her false bravado. “Yeah, sure you will. Maybe if you throw in a hot chocolate I might go easy on you and play with my eyes closed for a bit. I’ll still beat you though.”</p><p>Emma has to smile at that, because she knows even if she had slept at some point in the last 36 hours, Henry would still annihilate her.</p><p>They walk the couple of blocks to the arcade and chat about what Henry’s doing at school, comic books he’s read recently and a dozen other things. She’s been part of the Youth Mentoring program since she came through the academy, and she’s been working with Henry for the last two years.</p><p>He wasn’t originally one of her mentees, but she’d come to know him indirectly through one of the older girls in his previous group home who she’d been mentoring for a few years, and they’d connected.</p><p>“What do you want to play?” Emma asks as she heads up to the counter to buy some tokens.</p><p>She’s not surprised when Henry chooses Space Paranoids; he almost always does.</p><p>As predicted, Henry manages to thoroughly humiliate her in the first few games they play. There’s a moment, though, when they’ve been playing for half an hour where he seems distracted and Emma takes what will probably be her only chance ever to beat him.</p><p>She gloats for a second, but then realises he’s gone quiet and doesn’t seem at all invested in the game. It’s not like him.</p><p>“What’s up, kid?” she asks, because she’s starting to worry.</p><p>He seems to shake off whatever’s bothering him and he grins cheekily at her. “I thought you could use the confidence boost. Got to keep you interested in playing somehow.”</p><p>She can feel the lie in his voice, knows there’s something more going on, but she senses that he’ll get to it in his own time. She’s right; by the time they’ve sat down to eat their burgers, Henry seems to have reached a decision.</p><p>“Would I still be able to see you if someone adopted me?”</p><p>She answers carefully, because she doesn’t know the details behind the question, and she also knows how easy it is to end up disappointed in this situation. After all, she’d spent her entire childhood bouncing around between group homes and foster families and one brief moment being part of a real family, until they’d changed their mind and sent her back like a shirt that didn’t quite fit rather than a child desperately wanting a home to call her own.</p><p>“I hope so, kid. But it would depend on a lot of things, like what your family wanted to do.” Emma hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is there someone?”</p><p>Henry dips a French fry into his thickshake and swirls it around for a bit. “I don’t know. Maybe. There’s this woman who came to see me a couple of times.”</p><p>Emma smiles and hopes with every inch of her being that this one pans out for him. He’s 10 years old now and she knows from experience that he’s almost out of time. There have been others before who’ve gotten his hopes up for a while and then let him down and she can see how cagey he is this time after his previous disappointments.</p><p>“What was she like?”</p><p>He shrugs. “I don’t know. Smart, kinda scary. Dressed like she was rich and drove a fancy car.”</p><p>“Did you like her?” </p><p>He shrugs again, then says plainly, “I wish that you could adopt me.” He finally pulls the fry out of his shake and eats it.</p><p>“You know what, I wish that I could too. But my life isn’t stable or settled enough for me to be able to take care of you the way that you deserve.” It’s not a lie; she’s thought about it more than once, thought about how she could rearrange her life, her job and be a mother to him. But she knows she’s not ready, that if she did it she’d end up letting them both down.</p><p>“I wouldn’t care about that.”</p><p>Emma gives him a tight smile. “You say that now, but after a while you would. But you have to know, kid, I’ll always be here for you. No matter what, I’m always on your side.”</p><p>They finish their burgers and Emma senses she’s not going to get much more out of Henry. He’s so preoccupied that he doesn’t even try to beg her for another half hour when she suggests they start walking back to the group home. Henry’s quiet; he has been since their conversation about adoption and she doesn’t push it.</p><p>*****</p><p>Emma’s balls up a piece of paper and aims it at Lance’s head.</p><p>He catches it before it hits him and lands a perfect 3-pointer in Mulan’s trash can. “What was that for?”</p><p>“I feel like we’re stuck in a holding pattern on the Jones case. It’s like we’re just waiting for him to walk in here and tell us he did it. We’re not going to get anywhere if we keep tiptoeing around him; he needs to feel like he’s got eyes on him everywhere.”</p><p>She’s sure everyone else shares her frustrations. So far, they have tape of Sarah going with Jones to his room and the evidence of Sarah’s injuries to support her testimony. Unfortunately, they don’t have DNA back yet and there’s about ten thousand unrelated samples from the hotel room still to be processed.</p><p>It’s not much, but as far as Emma’s concerned, it’s enough to make an arrest, or at the very least bring him in and turn the heat up.</p><p>“So, what do you want to do about it?” Lance asks, answering his own question by tilting his head in the direction of the Lieutenant’s office.</p><p>Emma folds her arms. “If we don’t move on this bastard now, he’s going to leave New York for the next 2 months for filming. I hunted down his schedule and he’s in town for promotional commitments until Saturday. After that, he’s gone and we lose our chance.”</p><p>That particular nugget of information had come at the hands of a hapless intern at Jones’ management agency who hadn’t taken much persuading to give up the information.  </p><p>“Now, are you in?”</p><p>Lance nods. He stands up and Neal and Mulan follow. Emma brings up the rear.</p><p>Nolan sighs when he sees them all standing outside his office. “You know I’m gonna get some heat for this, but bring him in,” he says, before any of them can even ask the question.</p><p>*****</p><p>They track down Jones on his way to a press event. He’s just stepping out of his car along with his entourage.</p><p>“Killian Jones?” The man in question turns around at the sound of his name and Emma flashes her badge discreetly, even though she wants nothing more than to haul him down to the station in cuffs in front of as many reporters as possible. “Could you come with us?”</p><p>“Now why would I want to come with you?”</p><p>“Well, we could do this here, where there are <em>a lot </em>of cameras and people looking for a juicy story. Or we could do this somewhere nice and private, like down at the station,” Neal says.</p><p>“William Smee,” the man Emma presumes is Jones’ manager says, holding out a hand that she chooses not to shake. “Now what exactly is it you want with my client?”</p><p>“We’d like to ask him some questions to help us with an open investigation.</p><p>“Are you arresting my client for something?”</p><p>“Not at the moment. We were just hoping he might do his civic duty and help us out with an investigation.”</p><p>Jones looks at his manager for an answer. “Don’t say another word until your lawyer arrives,” he says. To Emma and Neal, there’s a conciliatory smile and a request to bring Jones down to the station himself.</p><p>Emma shakes her head. “I don’t think that will work.”</p><p>She looks at Neal and he shrugs.</p><p>Down at the station, they take Jones straight into an interview room. There’s a lawyer already waiting and he follows them into the interview room.</p><p>“Can you confirm your whereabouts on the evening of May 27<sup>th</sup>?” Emma asks.</p><p>“I’m a bit too busy keeping to be keeping track of my own calendar. You’ll have to check with my manager.”</p><p>“Were you at the Hudson Hotel as a guest of FirstCon on the date in question?”</p><p>“Probably.” Jones leans back in his chair, looking a little too relaxed. “I don’t know. Like I said, I pay someone else to deal with that shit.”</p><p>His lawyer interjects. “I’m sure my client will be willing to furnish you with a list of his promotional commitments.”</p><p>“And is he willing to furnish us with a full confession about exactly what he got up to that night?” Emma asks.</p><p>“Is he being charged with something?”</p><p>“Not at the moment,” Neal says, his tone conciliatory. He’s always been good at disarming lawyers, and even this one visibly relaxes, if only for a moment, before remembering himself.</p><p>“Then I’m not sure what you’re hoping to achieve with this.”</p><p>“We have reason to believe that your client has intimate knowledge of a sexual assault that took place on the evening in question,” Neal says and his voice is just as soft and even as it was before.</p><p>“We’re going to need a sample of your client’s DNA. I’m sure he wouldn’t have any objection to providing one to help us exclude him from our investigation,” Emma says.</p><p>Killian licks his lips and ignores the defence lawyer next to him urging him to shut up. He looks straight at Emma in a way that makes her skin feel like there are cockroaches crawling underneath it. “I’m sure you do, Love. If you give me your number, maybe we can arrange for you to receive a sample back at my place.”</p><p>He smirks at her and Emma suppresses the urge to wipe the smile off his face, because she wants this creep to rot in jail. “After dinner of course,” he finishes.</p><p>She hates men like him – cocky, entitled, utterly sure of their own invincibility – but she knows that attitude is what is going to help her get him in the end. His lawyer is sitting next to him tearing out his hair while his client refuses to use his right to remain silent.</p><p>She keeps her face neutral, refuses to give him the reaction he’s looking for. “I can get a kit if you’d like to give us one now.”</p><p>“I bet you enjoy coming to work every day with a view like that,” Jones says to Neal, who stares blankly back at him.</p><p>There’s a rap on the glass and Emma snarls in frustration, because she’s not ready to let him walk out of this room any time soon. She wants him to feel like he’s hunted, like she’s in his head and every last move he makes is going to be under microscopic scrutiny. </p><p>She casts a last glare at him as Neal follows her out. Lieutenant Nolan’s just outside and she has to stifle the urge to slam the door behind her.</p><p>“What the hell? We were just starting to get somewhere in there when you pulled me out.”</p><p>He shakes his head ruefully. “Not my call.”</p><p>She looks past him and finally notices Regina on the other side of the room, watching her with barely contained fury.</p><p>Emma storms across the bullpen towards her. “You.”</p><p>“Detective Swan.” Regina sounds out each syllable like they’re made out of something distasteful and she doesn’t want them touching her tongue a moment longer than they have to.</p><p>“How dare you? This is our goddamn case. You don’t get to tell us how to run it.” Emma doesn’t wait for a response. She pushes past her on her way to the kitchenette to get herself a drink of water.</p><p>She can hear the angry click-clack of Regina’s heels drawing closer behind her.</p><p>“It’s my job to tell you how to run it when you’re about to screw things up. I told you and I told your Lieutenant that you weren’t to bring Jones in yet and you’ve done it anyway.”</p><p>Emma pours herself a glass of water and then turns around to face her. “We need to push him. He needs to feel like we’re onto him and we’re not going to let this rest.”</p><p>Regina takes a step towards her. “We need more evidence first.”</p><p>“What? Like a video of Jones saying ‘I am a rapey rapist that rapes?’ I’m sure that’ll be forthcoming any minute now.” Emma slams her glass down in frustration and it spills out onto the bench. “How are we supposed to get more evidence when you won’t let us talk to the main suspect? It’s not like there’s anyone else we’re looking at for this.”</p><p>“How? You could start by doing your job.”</p><p>Regina hasn’t stopped coming and Emma finds herself backed up against the bench. Regina doesn’t seem to have a particularly robust understanding of the concept of personal space, and if Emma’s honest, she’s not entirely sure how she feels about that. No, she knows exactly how she feels, or how she would under slightly different circumstances. Right now though, she’s focused on working this case until Killian Jones is safely off the streets.</p><p>“That’s what I’m trying to do, but right now it feels like you’re standing in the way.” She looks pointedly at the very small distance between them, and for effect lifts her hand up and pokes Regina on the shoulder.</p><p>“Everything we do needs to be 100 percent by the book. Every form needs to be perfectly filled out, every search completely above board. We can’t afford to screw this one up – there won’t be any second chances.”</p><p>There’s more to it than just winning a case, Emma’s sure of that. The way Regina’s behaving, it feels like it’s personal in some way.</p><p>“I get it. But you have to trust us to do our jobs. Just like we have to trust you to do yours.”</p><p>Regina searches her face for the longest time and finally seems to see something that makes her relax. “Alright,” Regina says, and it feels like they’ve reached something approaching an understanding, at least for the moment. “But you’ve still got to cut Jones loose.”</p><p>Emma shakes her head. “If we cut him loose, he leaves town. Maybe even leaves the country. Give us some more time with him and I know we can get something we can use.”</p><p>Regina sighs. “You’ve got 15 minutes. Which is about as long as I’ll have to clean out my desk if my boss finds out I’m doing this.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Emma smiles and there’s a tentative smile in return. It warms her in a way she doesn’t quite expect, galvanises her for the battle of wills she’s about to have.</p><p>She heads back into the interview room with Neal, but it’s too late, the moment has passed. Killian Jones is sitting, smug and irritatingly silent, much to the delight of his lawyer, and no matter what Emma and Neal try, they can’t seem to goad him into a reaction.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The break in the case comes unexpectedly. She runs into an old colleague from her uniform days at the gym. They don’t see each other nearly as often as they used to, with Ruby moving up the ranks in Organised Crime and Emma working what sometimes feels like 25 hours a day.</p><p>Ruby gets on the spin bike next to her. “Rumour on the street is that you’re going after Killian Jones.”</p><p>“And how would a rumour like that have been started?” Emma asks cagily, because she knows Regina will skin her alive if there’s any hint that they’ve screwed this up. They’re already skating on very thin ice after bringing him in without her say-so.</p><p>Ruby laughs. “You can’t haul someone like him down to the precinct and not have every cop in the place talking about it like a bunch of old washerwomen.”</p><p>“Damn.” She’s sure she’ll be hearing from Regina any minute now and she doesn’t think it’s going to be a happy conversation full of complements for her detective work.</p><p>“I heard Mulligan tried to get an autograph for his teenage daughter when he was on his way out.” Ruby shakes her head. “Dumb bastard.”</p><p>“So are we talking about Jones because you’re a fan too, or are you just in it for the gossip?”</p><p>Ruby grins widely. “Geez, Swan, I know it’s been a while, but I can’t believe you think so little of me. Actually, I heard a rumour that you might be interested in. One of the girls that worked my block when I was undercover a couple of years ago had a story about him. About how he doesn’t like hearing the word no.”</p><p>Emma stops pedalling. “Do you have a name?”</p><p>“Not one that she’s likely to answer to these days. I haven’t seen her in a while, but I could ask around. Some of the girls still talk to me occasionally.”</p><p>*****</p><p>Ruby comes through with a name and after a bit of digging they manage to find her. She’s not working the streets any more and they find her working a cleaning job at a motel. She leaves Neal behind and takes Mulan instead, figuring she might be a little more receptive.</p><p>“Are you Alicia Jackson?”</p><p>There’s an apprehensive look when Emma flashes her badge that speaks to her past life. She doesn’t run, but they don’t get off to a great start either.</p><p>“We were hoping to speak to you about Killian Jones.” The expression on her face is all the confirmation Emma needs. She’s seen it on far too many faces over the years, the same distant blankness that gives way to poorly-concealed pain and memory.</p><p>She all but slams the door in their face. “Why should I talk to you? I walked into a police station 3 years ago, against my better judgement, and I got laughed out of there.”</p><p>“We have reason to believe you’re not the only person he hurt. We want to stop him before he has a chance to do this to anyone else.”</p><p>“What? He finally rape some rich, pretty white girl?” She studies them for a moment then curls her lip. “Thought so.”</p><p>“You deserve justice,” Emma says, wishing she had a way to turn the clock back to be the receptive ear she should have had in the first place.</p><p>“I deserve some goddamned peace and quiet. You think these rooms are gonna clean themselves?”</p><p>“He’s dangerous. He hurt you and now he’s hurt someone else. I don’t think that’ll be the end of it. I don’t think he’ll stop there. Do you?”</p><p>She smiles bitterly. “I know he won’t stop.” She strokes the faded line of a scar down her right cheek for a moment.</p><p>“I’m sorry, we won’t take up any more of your time.” She hands Alicia her card. “In case you change your mind.”</p><p>She’s already turning away as she says, “I have work to do.”</p><p>*****</p><p>When Emma and Neal get back to the precinct, she’s surprised to find a familiar figure sitting at her desk reading a comic book. She shoots a questioning look in Mulan’s direction over Henry’s head.</p><p>“Found the kid wandering around out the front. He said he wouldn’t leave until he’d talked to you.”</p><p>“Hey kid, what are you doing here?” she asks.</p><p>“I want to file a missing person’s report.”</p><p>Emma steals Lance’s chair and pulls it up to sit opposite Henry. It sounds like this is going to be a long conversation.</p><p>“Okay, shoot.”</p><p>He frowns at her. “You’re supposed to be taking notes.”</p><p>“Thank you for reminding me.” She reaches across the desk and grabs a pen and a pad of paper while Mulan smirks unhelpfully in the background. “Now I’m ready to hear your story. So who do you think is missing?”</p><p>“My friend Nick. We were gonna meet at the library this afternoon. They have an Xbox there and we booked it for today.”</p><p>“What time were you supposed to be meeting him?”</p><p>“Three.”</p><p>Emma looks at her watch. It’s half past five now. Not exactly the most convincing missing person story so far, but she figures she should humour the kid.</p><p>“And were you meeting at the library or somewhere else?”</p><p>“At the library. We always meet there.”</p><p>“Does he have a cell phone, or some other way you can contact him?”</p><p>Henry shakes his head.</p><p>“Is there any possibility he had to stay late at school or had to stay home?”</p><p>Henry looks a little despondent at that question, like he’s worried she’s not taking him seriously and Emma rushes to reassure him. “I’m just trying to think of all the possibilities.”</p><p>“I waited for him for almost an hour and then I went by his place before I came here. He wasn’t there.”</p><p>“Where does Nick live?”</p><p>“He’s with a foster family now.”</p><p>“Do you know if he gets on well with his foster family?”</p><p>“He doesn’t like them much. His foster father has a temper.”</p><p>Emma doesn’t need her years of lived experience in the foster system to know what that means. “Is there any chance he ran away?”</p><p>Henry doesn’t hesitate even for a moment. “No way. If he was going to run, he would have told me. We tell each other everything.”</p><p>“Okay kid, I’ll check it out, but first we’re going to get you home.”</p><p>“Can’t I come with you? I’d be useful; I know things about Nick and I could help you find him.” Henry looks at her with big, pleading eyes and she almost gives in, but manages to hold it together.</p><p>“Absolutely not. I’m sure you’ve got homework to do, so while you get on with that, I’ll go round to Nick’s place and check things out.” Henry looks like he wants to argue, but Emma cuts him off. “As soon as I know anything I’ll let you know. I promise.”</p><p>He grumbles a little at that, but eventually concedes.</p><p>“Come on, I’ll drive you home.” She walks Henry down the hall towards the exit, one hand on his shoulder, caught by surprise at the ambush that comes as they make their way through the precinct.</p><p>“Get your hands off him.”</p><p>Of everything she was expecting out of today, the last thing she would have imagined would have been the current sight of Regina bearing down on her like a mama bear with her cubs in danger.</p><p>Emma raises her hands reflexively. “Woah, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I was just taking the kid home.”</p><p>Regina ignores her and fusses over Henry. “Henry, are you alright?”</p><p>Henry looks just as confused as she does and looks over to her for confirmation. “Uh, yeah?” he says uncertainly.</p><p>The gears in Emma’s head suddenly grind into action and she thinks she’s got an idea of what’s going on. Smart, kinda scary, dresses like a million bucks: all words that could easily be used to describe Regina Mills. “So I guess that you two know each other, then?”</p><p>Regina finally seems to take account of the situation and she stops fussing with Henry’s scarf and looks over to Emma, a frown knitting her brow.</p><p>“And how do you two know each other?”</p><p>“This is Emma. She’s my Big Sister. Not my real one,” he hurries to add, “because I don’t have one, but she takes care of me like she is.”</p><p>Emma jumps in to clarify, because Regina’s still looking at her suspiciously. “I’m part of a mentoring program. I’ve known Henry for a couple of years now.”</p><p>“I suppose that’s alright then.” Regina relaxes just enough that it doesn’t look like her spine is about to snap any moment, but she still looks and sounds a little put out.</p><p>“And Emma, this is Regina. She’s…” he hesitates and at the look on both his and Regina’s faces, she rushes in to the rescue, because based on the shadowy hope on both their faces, this isn’t a conversation that either of them are ready to have, not here and not now.</p><p>“It’s okay, kid. We’ve met. Regina and I work together.” It’s enough to defuse things, and there’s a whisper of gratitude that crosses Regina’s face before it goes stony again.</p><p>“Is she a cop?” Henry asks. “Because her car’s way nicer than yours,” he finishes, a cheeky grin starting to creep onto his face.</p><p>“She’s the ADA. I catch the bad guys and she makes sure they don’t get away with their crimes.”</p><p>“And I eat a lot less donuts than Emma does, one of the other key differences between our professions,” Regina adds unhelpfully.</p><p>Emma ignores the jibe, even though it’s probably true. Regina Mills looks like she’s never eaten a donut in her life, and Emma’s never met a salad that she likes. “Now, let me guess, she drives a Mercedes.”</p><p>Regina purses her lips in a way that tells Emma she’s spot on. “Have you been following me instead of the criminals you’re paid to track down?”</p><p>“Absolutely. Following you is definitely something I would choose to do with my one hour of free time a year.”</p><p>“And I suppose you drive a Subaru Outback. Or,” Regina looks her up and down in a way that Emma’s not quite sure how to interpret, “maybe some kind of obnoxious motorcycle.”</p><p>“1969 Volkswagen, actually. Bright yellow. She’s my pride and joy.”</p><p>“She’s kind of a rust-bucket,” Henry whispers to Regina.</p><p>Emma mock-glares at him. “She’s beautiful.”</p><p>“Well, as long as we’re not taking your car, you can marry her for all I care,” Regina interjects.</p><p>“We?”</p><p>“I’m coming with you,” Regina says.</p><p>The car ride (in her very safe, recently-serviced unmarked NYPD car) to Henry’s group home is a little tense, even after Henry’s attempts to break the ice. When they pull up outside the group home, Henry tries to argue that he should come with them, but they look at him with matching expressions and Regina’s “absolutely not” and Emma’s “sorry, kid” come out at pretty much the same time.</p><p>“Kid, I promise I’m going to go around there right now and try to find out where Nick is.”</p><p>“And I’m going with her,” Regina adds smoothly, before Emma has a chance to offer to drop her home or wherever her car is.</p><p>She heads over to Nick’s foster home, Regina still in tow. She tries to think of something to say during the car ride over, but the few conversation starters she can think of die on her lips before she can get them out when she looks across at her passenger.</p><p>They get to the foster home and the man who answers the door eyes them both suspiciously.</p><p>“I’m looking for Nick.”</p><p>“And who might you be?”</p><p>“My name is Emma Swan.” She’s about to reach for her badge, but hesitates. She has a feeling she won’t get anything out of him if he thinks she’s here on official business. And right now, she’s not.</p><p>Before she gets a chance to say anything, Regina jumps in. “Nick is a friend of my son. They were supposed to meet this afternoon at the library.”</p><p>She’s surprised that Regina’s willing to bend the truth a little that way, but she’s not going to argue. It gives them a good reason to be here asking questions.</p><p>“Well Nick’s not here at the moment. Damn kid’s always out late running around, up to no good somewhere.”</p><p>“When do you expect him home?”</p><p>“Who knows with that one? Why you asking?”</p><p>She knows his type. There are good foster parents out there, but he’s not one of them. He’s the type that sees a foster kid as an opportunity to collect a cheque and do the bare minimum for it. If Nick really is missing, then she suspects he’ll leave it as long as possible before reporting it.</p><p>“Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”</p><p>“No idea,” he grates out. “Now get off my property.”</p><p>She debates whether she should call this one in. On the one hand, she wouldn’t trust Nick’s foster father as far as she could throw him, although she also doesn’t get the sense that he’s lying. On the other hand, Nick would be far from the first kid to run away from a shitty foster home. She’d certainly done it more than once.</p><p>She doesn’t have grounds at the moment to search the property, and there’s no way Nick’s foster father is going to let them in to check out his room.</p><p>“Come on,” Emma says, turning to leave.</p><p>“We’re leaving, just like that?” Regina sounds indignant and if the situation wasn’t so serious, Emma would smile, because Regina’s normally so by the book and right now she sounds like she’d be more than happy to throw the book on the nearest bonfire.</p><p>Emma looks at her pointedly. “Well normally you’d be the first one to point out that we’d be overstepping if we tried to check the place out any further.”</p><p>“I don’t like this. And I don’t like him,” Regina says.</p><p>“Neither do I,” Emma says, “but I don’t think he knows anything.”</p><p>“You don’t think he hurt Nick or had something to do with him disappearing?”</p><p>“I think he’s not going to report Nick missing, because he wants to keep cashing the cheques he gets,” Emma says grimly. “But no, I don’t think he hurt him. At least not in the way you’re thinking.”</p><p>She’s not sure she’s convinced Regina of anything, but she follows Emma without any further protest. She’s still not sure that Nick hasn’t just run away, because from what she’s seen, he’d have every reason to.</p><p>As they’re walking out, a young blonde blonde girl appears and intercepts them as they walk down the street back to the car.</p><p>“Nick hasn’t been home for 3 days.”</p><p>“Is there any chance he ran away?” Emma asks.</p><p>The girl shakes her head. “He left his Pokemon trading cards behind. He never would have gone without them. And he wouldn’t have gone without me. I’m his twin sister.”</p><p>That’s enough confirmation for Emma. “We need to call this in.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She’d been surprised when Alicia had called her and even moreso when she agreed to testify. It was enough that the District Attorney was finally happy to move forward with an arrest and to bring the case to trial. Unsurprisingly, Jones had made bail, as much as Emma would have loved to see him safely locked away.</p><p>Now though, they’re only a few days away from the Grand Jury and after everything felt like it was falling into place, they’ve hit yet another bump in the road.</p><p>Emma knocks hesitantly at the door. It’s been a while since she’s been up to the DA’s offices and she’s not sure her presence is going to be particularly welcome.</p><p>“I have bad news.”</p><p>“Pretty sure you couldn’t top the day I’ve already had.” Regina looks tired and Emma wonders what’s happened today to have her looking so defeated.</p><p>“Alicia’s changed her mind. She’s refusing to testify.” Emma’s expecting a reaction to that, but it’s not the one she gets.</p><p>“I never expected her to,” Regina says, and her voice is soft rather than the anger Emma’s expecting.</p><p>“You don’t seem surprised.”</p><p>Regina’s mouth twists into something resembling a smile. “Why should she? She came forward once and no one wanted to listen to her story.”</p><p>“This is different. <em>We’re</em> different.”</p><p>“Are we though? Most of the time, there’s no justice for people who look like her. I’ll ask you again, why should she?”</p><p>She’s not sure what answer Regina’s looking for. Once again, she gets the feeling that this case means something to her, but she can’t quite put her finger on what it is. “If she doesn’t, Killian Jones walks and he’ll use his power over and over again to hurt people.”</p><p>Regina laughs, but it’s not a happy sound. “He’ll probably still get away with it. The only thing that’ll change if she gets on that stand is that a bigshot Hollywood defence lawyer who earns as much from this case as <em>I</em> make in five years will humiliate her, will lay bare every secret she’s ever had for the tabloids to pore over while they find a reason not to believe her.”</p><p>“Then we fight back.”</p><p>Regina doesn’t say anything to that for a long moment. Then, “She has an eight-year-old daughter. Did you know that?”</p><p>Emma shakes her head. “She didn’t tell me.”</p><p>“Do you think she wants her life laid bare for her daughter to hear about on the playground. Every mistake, every sordid detail of what she used to do. Because that’s what’s going to happen.” Regina shakes her head. “I’m surprised you’re this naïve.” </p><p>“I’m not. I guess I was just focused on the case, focused on trying to put this piece of shit behind bars.”</p><p>Regina sighs. “As you should be. As we both should be.”</p><p>Emma’s confused. “Should I push her harder, try to get her back on the stand?”</p><p>“No. We’ll just have to find another way.” She says it without much conviction and Emma’s even more worried, because everything about her past interactions with Regina suggests that she should be furious about this setback and pushing Emma to do better.</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>“I’m fine, Detective,” Regina snaps, and Emma’s almost relieved, because this seems more like the Regina Mills she knows. Almost, but when she looks closely, she can see the dark circles under Regina’s eyes and the tension in the lines around her mouth and she can hear the lie in her voice.</p><p>She hesitates. They don’t have this kind of relationship, or any relationship really, but Emma’s not one to walk away from someone in pain. And right now, Regina seems like she needs a friend, or at least someone to talk to.</p><p>“Do you want to get a drink?” Emma asks, and for a moment, she thinks maybe Regina will say yes.</p><p>Regina gestures at the thick stack of files that’s threatening to fall off the edge of her desk. “This work isn’t going to do itself. We’re a week out from the Grand Jury on the Jones case and I have a dozen other cases on the go in varying states of completion.”</p><p>“Okay, then. How about a cup of tea instead?”</p><p>Regina looks at her as if she’s a puzzle she’s trying to solve, then shrugs. “Why not?”</p><p>She slides a mug across the desk towards Emma and then fumbles in one of her drawers for a moment before producing a couple of tea bags. “Here, the ones in the kitchen taste like dishwater. <em>After</em> it’s been used.”</p><p>Emma stands there like a fool for a moment, before asking, “And where is the kitchen exactly?”</p><p>Regina rolls her eyes. “Down the hall, second door on the left.” As Emma walks out, Regina calls out, “I take a dash of milk and no sugar.”</p><p>*****</p><p>Regina watches Emma walk out of her office, wondering why she’d said yes. She gets up a moment later and heads to the kitchen after her; she has a feeling that Emma Swan is not someone who should be trusted with making tea, even if it is the kind that comes in a bag.</p><p>Her suspicions are confirmed as she enters the kitchen and sees Emma shovelling sugar into a #1 Lawyer mug that she must have found in the cupboard.</p><p>She waits in the doorway for a moment, observing quietly. There’s something about Emma that’s managed to get under her skin in the short time they’ve been working together. It’s more than just the absurdly large collection of perfectly fitted leather jackets, tank tops that show off a little too much, and skinny jeans that she wishes she didn’t appreciate so much.</p><p>She watches Emma open the fridge and bend over in search of the milk, and okay, the skinny jeans are definitely a part of it.  But there’s something else there and she’s afraid to find out what. It’s made her sharper than she usually is, particularly with Emma, and she hopes it hasn’t been obvious.</p><p>She realises she’s been standing and staring for too long and she approaches when Emma stands up and moves back to the bench.</p><p>“You don’t really drink tea, do you?”</p><p>Emma jumps a little at the sound of her voice and Regina reaches out a hand to steady her. She turns to face Regina, leaning against the bench in a way that’s a little too studied to be casual.</p><p>“How could you tell?”</p><p>“I just watched you put enough sugar into your cup to make the spoon stand straight up.” She smiles a little at the hint of a blush that colours Emma’s cheeks. “You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. There’s probably some soda in the refrigerator that you could borrow.”</p><p>“Nah. You break it, you buy it. Feels like it applies here, too.” Emma picks up the mug and takes a sip and then screws up her face.</p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“Definitely. I promised you tea.”</p><p>“I might make my own if that’s okay with you.”</p><p>Emma smiles wryly. “Another time I might choose to be insulted, but I just tasted my own handiwork and I definitely don’t blame you.”</p><p>Regina makes her tea, taking her time. Emma leans against the bench and silently observes. Normally she’d be irritated by the attention, but she finds it’s not unwelcome.</p><p>They walk back to Regina’s office and sit down. Regina takes a sip of her tea and tries to think of something to say. She comes up blank, because really, what do she and Emma have apart from a very precarious working relationship?</p><p>“You don’t have to talk about whatever it is to me, but I’m here to listen if you want me to,” Emma says after taking another sip of her obviously terrible tea.</p><p>She can see why Emma’s a good detective, even if she’d never admit that to her. There’s an ease and an openness about her that seems to invite disclosure and just like the victims that Emma works with on a daily basis, Regina’s not entirely sure that she’s immune to it, much as she would like to be.</p><p>And there’s something else too. For a moment, like the flicker of something in her peripheral vision, she swears she senses a sliver of magic coming from Emma. It’s brief and almost barely there, but it gives her a subtle warmth, one that she’s not used to feeling with magic. After all, her only point of reference is her mother, and nothing about her could ever be said to be warm or gentle. </p><p>She wonders if Emma knows she’s doing it, because she’s never been conscious of it in any of their previous interactions. Then again, most of them have been tense affairs, brimming with anger and an edge of something else that Regina’s not quite sure she wants to name.</p><p>Instinctively she wants to push Emma away, like she would almost everyone else, but there’s an instant unspoken counter-argument from somewhere that has her answering in spite of herself. The truth is, she’s tired. Tired of fighting and tired of facing things alone.</p><p>“I’m not sure one cup of tea is enough to cover everything,” she says.</p><p>“I don’t need tea to listen.”</p><p>Regina takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment and then says, “Have you, by any chance, met my mother?”</p><p>“Your mother?” Emma frowns, appearing to contemplate the question, even though Regina’s pretty sure there’s not a cop or a lawyer in the district who doesn’t know exactly who her mother is. “You mean a woman about yea high, holds the keys to the city, looks like she’s killed a man or two in her time, at council meetings at least?”</p><p>Regina nods.</p><p>“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”</p><p>“Then you’re lucky. I often wish I hadn’t met her. Particularly today.”</p><p>“What’s so special about today?”</p><p>“Today is the day my mother decided to ruin what little remaining hope of happiness I had. Obviously, you know I’ve been looking into adoption.”</p><p>She’s still not sure how she feels about Emma being such a big part of Henry’s life. There’s a dark, selfish twisted part of her that wants him all to herself, jealous of the obvious connection he has with Emma. But she can also see how positive it is for him and she doesn’t want to ruin that.</p><p>“I figured. How’s that going?”</p><p>“I thought things were progressing nicely until my mother stopped by and told me that there was no way my application would be approved if she has anything to do with it.”</p><p>Emma puts her tea down a little too forcefully. It’s mostly full and a little spills over the edge, narrowly missing a pile of briefs. “I know she’s the Mayor, but you’re a grown-ass woman. How could she possibly stop you if that’s what you want to do?”</p><p>Regina laughs bleakly. “You’d be surprised just how much reach my mother has.”</p><p>“But why would she want to ruin something like that for you?”</p><p>“Because she can?” Regina shakes her head. “No, it’s more than that. I think my mother always imagined herself at the head of a dynasty. I’ve messed up her plans because I can’t have children of my own.”</p><p>Her infertility had been yet another disappointment in a long line of failures, according to her mother. A disappointment that her mother had taken great pleasure to remind her of at every possible opportunity.</p><p>“If I was to adopt, my mother would want it to be the child of some widowed oligarch or politician that I married. Not a child who could bring her absolutely no advantage or prestige.”</p><p>There had been an endless series of prospective suitors her mother had paraded in front of her from the time she’d barely been out of high school. Leopold had, at the time, seemed like the least-worst option out of them all, until of course she’d come to truly know him.</p><p>“Your mother sounds like a monster.”</p><p>“Oh, she is. She’s a very good politician, apparently a very popular Mayor, and an utterly awful mother.” She sometimes wonders if the popularity is real, of if her mother has had a little supernatural help to aid her in her career.</p><p>“Is there anything I can do?”</p><p>Regina looks across at Emma leaning forward in her chair, poised for action. There’s a moment where she wishes she could share her burden with Emma, let her carry a little of the load on those strong shoulders. But she knows the consequences, knows what it means to cross her mother and in spite of everything that’s passed between them previously, she doesn’t want Emma to suffer that fate.</p><p>“The best thing you could do would be to stay well away from my mother. Pray that you never come to her attention. She’s taken down much more powerful people than you. One inconsequential NYPD detective would barely be a pre-breakfast warm up for her.”</p><p>She wonders if she should mention Cora’s magic, warn Emma about it. She’s still not sure if Emma’s consciously aware of the things she does. There’s an unpractised, instinctive nature to the feel of Emma’s magic that argues to the contrary and Regina decides to keep her mouth shut. Magic isn’t exactly an open secret in the community; there are few who know about it and fewer still who practice, particularly in the big cities.</p><p>Emma starts to say something then checks herself.</p><p>“What were you going to say?”</p><p>Emma bites her lip nervously. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business, but if you’re not serious about Henry or not in a position to be, please don’t string him along.”</p><p>Regina feels a brief flash of anger at Emma’s suggestion, but she recognises her protective instinct for what it is and knows that in the same position she wouldn’t hesitate to do the same.</p><p>“I am serious about him,” she says eventually, “but I’m not even sure that he even wants me to adopt him. Every time we’ve met, he seems so awkward and stand-offish with me.”</p><p>There’s more, though. She wonders if she even should be a mother, given her own childhood hadn’t exactly given her a usable guide to how to be a good parent. Maybe the universe had known best when it made her unable to bear children.</p><p>“Don’t be fooled by that. He’s been let down before, so it’s going to take more than just the possibility of finally having a family and a home of his own to get him to believe again.”</p><p>“I don’t want to be someone who lets him down,” Regina says, wondering if Emma’s trying to discourage her from adopting Henry. She understands the urge; she’s only met him a handful of times, but she thinks she’d lay her own life down to keep him safe. She’s so caught up in those thoughts that she almost doesn’t register what Emma says next.</p><p>“All I’m saying is he deserves someone who’ll fight for him. If that’s you, then you have my blessing. Not that you need it, of course,” Emma hurries to add.</p><p>Regina looks up, surprised, a warmth spreading in her chest at the sentiment Emma has just expressed. It’s a kindness she hadn’t expected, least of all from her. “Thank you.”</p><p>“And if you need someone to look the other way while you key your mother’s car, I’m your woman.”</p><p>Regina smiles. “I’ll keep that in mind.”</p><p>*****</p><p>“Have you seen this?”</p><p>Mulan waves her over to look at something on her computer. Emma peers over her shoulder at the screen; there’s an overwhelmingly blue background and some pictures and videos.</p><p>“Is that a dog video?”</p><p>“Oops. Not the dog video, even if Mr Huffles is the bestest boy. Wait.” Mulan opens up another page.</p><p>Emma looks at the page, still not quite sure what she’s supposed to be seeing. There are pictures of Killian Jones in various states of dress and partial undress. Mulan indicates one particular post.</p><p>“Read the tag at the bottom.”</p><p>“<em>Killian Jones can rail me any time</em>,” Emma reads, pulling a face as she does. “Gross. Why are you even looking at this?”</p><p>“Because Sarah posted it.”</p><p>Emma does the math quickly and doesn’t like the answer she comes back with. “This is definitely her account?”</p><p>“It’s from her account. She’s deleted all her social media now, but it’s definitely from her blog. Some of Jones’ fans have been compiling select posts from Sarah’s social media accounts. Word’s obviously gotten out about what happened and it looks like they’re going after her.”</p><p>Emma pinches the bridge of her nose. “We have to tell Mills about this. She’s not going to be happy.”</p><p>“<em>You</em> have to tell her about it,” Mulan says.</p><p>“You’re the one who found it,” Emma tries to argue, but Mulan shakes her head.</p><p>“You owe me.”</p><p>Somehow (she’s not entirely sure when it happened) she’s become the unit’s unofficial liaison with their ADA. Things have been better between them since that evening when they talked and maybe everyone else has picked up on that apparent thawing in their relationship. Or maybe they’re all just jerks who live to torment Emma. Either way, it seems like she’s going to be paying Regina another visit.</p><p>Emma calls Regina’s office. The department secretary answers the phone and indicates that she’s prosecuting a case today. She tries to convince Mulan that she should be the one to go see Regina, but she isn’t budging. She debates leaving it until later, but figures Regina would want to know as soon as possible.</p><p>She heads down to the courts and finds the room Regina’s in. She slips in and takes a seat at the back of the courtroom to watch Regina tear the defence to shreds. She has to admit, Regina’s impressive in action and while Emma had initially loathed going to court to watch Regina prosecute their cases, she’s definitely a convert now.</p><p>Regina seems to notice her based on the look of surprise and then a brief nod of acknowledgment before she takes her seat again.</p><p>The judge calls a recess before closing arguments and Regina walks over to the back of the courtroom where Emma’s waiting.</p><p>“I assume you’re looking for me and not here to watch a totally riveting case about a serial flasher.”</p><p>“I don’t know, this could be the highlight of my day,” Emma deadpans.</p><p>Regina sighs, obviously not in the mood for Emma’s weak attempts at humour. “Is it important? I’ve got less than an hour to get something to eat before we start closing arguments.”</p><p>“It’s about the Jones case.”</p><p>Regina gestures for her to follow and Emma has to jog to keep up. She doesn’t know how Regina manages to walk so fast in those heels.</p><p>Regina grabs a salad and they sit down together at a table while she eats her lunch. Emma waits until she’s finished, before pulling out her phone.</p><p>“Mulan found something and I don’t think you’re going to like it. These posts were taken from one of Sarah’s social media accounts.”</p><p>She opens the site on her phone and shows it to Regina.</p><p>Regina presses her lips together tightly and she doesn’t need to say anything for Emma to know what she’s thinking.</p><p>“Are they going to be able to use this against us?”</p><p>“Of course they will. We’ll be arguing that Jones used force. They’ll argue it was consensual and that it was rough sex. We can try to get it excluded in the pre-trial motions, but there aren’t any guarantees.”</p><p>“Do you think it’ll hurt our case?”</p><p>Regina shrugs. “At the end of the day, a judge and twelve members of the public will make that call. We’ve just got to hope they make the right decision.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Regina takes a deep breath before walking into the Grand Jury room. She’s always found the process a little disconcerting; her favourite part of working as a prosecutor has always been the adversarial nature of proceedings.</p><p>Today, everything’s going to ride on how well Sarah tells her story. They’ve gone over her testimony enough times to make Sarah confident with the process and the questions she might receive, but they still need her to respond with authenticity. From bitter experience, Regina knows that if she comes across too calmly she’ll lose the sympathy of the jury and lose credibility as a victim.</p><p>There are other pieces to their case, of course. They’d finally managed to compel a DNA sample from Jones and it had matched the one taken in the rape kit. They have pictures of the injuries, video surrounding the event and a supporting statement from Sarah’s roommate at the convention.</p><p>The loss of Alicia as a witness harms their case, there’s no doubt about it. Her testimony would have been enough to establish a clear pattern; there were enough similarities between the way Jones had conducted himself in both of those cases. She knows she could compel her to appear, but she’s reasonably confident that they have enough to pass the relatively low bar of the Grand Jury without putting her through that.</p><p>She looks around the room at the grand jurors. Eighteen and of those, she’ll need twelve to secure the indictment. She spends a moment trying to guess which ones might be sympathetic and which ones less easily swayed. It’ll become clear as the process plays out.</p><p>She walks the jury through the process and then calls Sarah as the first witness. Apart from the decision itself, this is the most nerve-wracking part of the proceedings, seeing how she performs under the relatively gentle scrutiny of the Grand Jury.</p><p>Sarah starts shakily, but grows more confident as she gets further into her story and as Regina looks around at the jurors, she feels a little lighter, a little more certain. There are a handful of questions from members of the jury that Sarah handles comfortably and then it’s time to move onto the next witness and so on.</p><p>Finally, they reach the point where the jury deliberates and Regina returns to her office to do some more work while awaiting their decision.</p><p>She gets the call a few hours later.</p><p>She allows herself to breathe for the first time in days. They’ve made it over the first hurdle. She heads straight down to the precinct to let the SVU detectives know.</p><p>She arrives to find the SVU offices empty except for Mulan who’s doing some paperwork.</p><p>“How did we go?”</p><p>“The Grand Jury came back with a True Bill on the indictment.”</p><p> Mulan breathes an audible sigh of relief that mirrors her own from earlier.</p><p>“I know there’s not much to celebrate yet, but it’s a start. Perhaps I could buy the team a drink after work?”</p><p>She looks around for Emma, but she’s interviewing a witness in another case. As much as she hates to admit it, she kind of wants to spend more time with her and she’s willing to buy the entire Special Victims Unit a round or several to make that happen.</p><p>Mulan appears to contemplate the idea for a moment, then says, “We usually meet at Granny’s after we wrap a case.” She looks at her watch. “Say five o’clock. It’ll give us time to finish things up here. I’ll let the rest of the team know.”</p><p>*****</p><p>“Was Regina here?”</p><p>Emma steps out of the interview room. She’s been working around the clock on finding Henry’s friend without much luck. Since then, she’s identified another two boys from other foster homes who might be missing and there’s a sick feeling settling in her stomach. There hadn’t exactly been many leads to start with and even with two more possible disappearances, she doesn’t have much to show for her work.</p><p>“Yeah. The Grand Jury came back. We’ve got our indictment,” Mulan says.</p><p>It’s the only good news they’ve had recently.</p><p>“How did you go in there?”</p><p>Emma slaps the folder she’s carrying down on her desk in frustration. “I’ve got nothing. Three boys are missing, and every lead I follow turns into a dead end. Have you had any luck?”</p><p>Mulan shakes her head. “I’ve spent more time in video game arcades than I ever wanted to and apart from discovering that I really suck at Dance Dance Revolution, I’ve learned absolutely nothing.”</p><p>“Maybe there’s nothing <em>to</em> find. Maybe they’re just three foster kids who ran away from shitty situations.”</p><p>“Do you believe that?”</p><p>Emma rubs her eyes. It’s been at least 24 hours since she last slept, but her mind is still racing, trying to get a handle on this case. She knows she won’t sleep if she goes home now. She’ll get caught up chasing more dead-end possibilities until she works herself to the point of exhaustion. Either way, she figures she might as well stay here and keep working.</p><p>“No. I’m sure there’s something very wrong but I can’t find any way to prove it. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever worked a case that’s felt this impenetrable. I just don’t know where to go from here.”</p><p>Emma slams shut another useless file. “If any of these kids had families, there’d be a whole goddamned task force looking for them. Instead, it’s just us.”</p><p>“I know. It’s bullshit.” Mulan sighs. “You want to get a drink at Granny’s? I feel like I need something to help me switch off. I’m tired, but I don’t think I could sleep even if I tried.”</p><p>“You know what, that sounds like the best idea any of us have had all day.” Emma’s never been good at taking time out, but maybe she needs a moment to let her brain hit reset so she can come up with a fresh angle to attack this from.</p><p>Mulan picks up a folder from the corner of her desk. “How about you head down and grab us all a table? I’ve got a couple of things to finish quickly and then I’ll round up the troops.”</p><p>“I could wait here for you.”</p><p>“You know how busy it gets. If we wait too long, those jerks from the 29<sup>th</sup> will steal our table again.”</p><p>“Sure. See you in a bit.”</p><p>She picks up her things and heads out of the precinct for the short walk over to Granny’s. On the way over, she goes over the case in her head for what seems like the hundredth time today. Three boys missing, none of whom knew each other, all of them foster kids from homes where they wouldn’t be missed. They’ve scoured video footage and talked to countless witnesses who’d been in the areas they think they’d last been and always come up empty.</p><p>Emma walks through the front door of Granny’s and comes to an abrupt halt when she sees who’s there.</p><p>Regina Mills is parked at the bar, an invisible, but definitely noticeable space bubble surrounding her. Normally there’d be half a dozen cops leaning against the bar shooting the shit, but they seem to be giving the interloper in their midst a wide berth for now.</p><p>Emma looks around the room. Every cop in the place is eyeing Regina with a mix of suspicion, confusion and thinly veiled admiration.</p><p>Cops and lawyers usually don’t mix, but she’s pretty sure there’s hardly a person in the room right now who wouldn’t think about trampling all over that code to spend a moment at Regina Mills’ side.</p><p>She watches as one of the unis over in the corner playing darts is so distracted he misses the board completely and lands his dart a quarter of an inch into the door of the men’s room.</p><p>She understands that feeling all too well, and it’s that feeling that almost has her turning around and walking straight back out of Granny’s to find a safer haven. She knows she’s treading on dangerous ground and has been for a while and she can’t afford to let it ruin what little harmony they’ve managed to find in their working relationship.</p><p>It’s too late though, because Regina’s spotted her and is summoning her over with a surprisingly hesitant wave.</p><p>Emma feels the eyes of every cop in the bar, heavy and disapproving, suddenly on her and she’s not sure whether it’s because she’s fraternising with an ADA, or if it’s because every damn one of them would kill to be in her place.</p><p>Not that there’s much to be jealous of. Much to Emma and everyone else in the squad’s relief, she and Regina have almost succeeded in finding a way to work together without attempting to murder each other on a daily basis. That night in Regina’s office had helped and although they hadn’t quite managed to return to that fleeting moment of intimacy – in fact, things had been newly awkward for a time afterwards – it almost feels like they’re a team rather than at constant odds.</p><p>“Are you lost?”</p><p>Regina raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to finish.</p><p>“You know this a cop bar, right?”</p><p>The look she gets in response borders on scathing, but there’s an edge of humour there that Emma hasn’t really noticed before.</p><p>“Between the shields on the wall, and the overwhelming stench of machismo, somehow I hadn’t noticed.”</p><p>She takes a seat beside Regina and there’s a drink in front of her before she can even ask.</p><p>“I’m guessing you don’t exactly come here often.”</p><p>“All the time. I love the ambience and I particularly love being stared at by a few dozen cops who think I’ve arrived here from some other hostile planet.” Regina’s lips curve into something resembling a smile.</p><p>“So why have you decided to explore these new frontiers today?”</p><p>“I thought I could buy the team a drink. Celebrate the win, small though it is. That was the plan, anyway. So far it’s just you.”</p><p>Regina seems surprised at the question and Emma doesn’t quite understand why until she gets a text message from Mulan saying she’s been held up at the station.</p><p>She puts her phone away, left with the distinct impression that she’s been set up, before turning her attention back to Regina.</p><p>“So <em>is</em> this your first time in a cop bar?” Emma winces as she says it. It sounds like a half-cooked pick-up line, and if she’s honest with herself, that’s probably exactly what it is.</p><p>Regina nods her assent.</p><p>“How are you liking it? I’m guessing you’re used to slightly more refined surroundings.”</p><p>Regina snorts. “You think lawyer bars are any better?”</p><p>Emma takes a sip of her whiskey and pulls a face. “The drinks probably taste a bit less like paint stripper.” The older she gets, the worse the drinks here taste.</p><p>She swears Granny, the eponymous proprietor of the bar is deaf as a post most of the time, but she still shoots a sharp look in Emma’s direction.</p><p>“The drinks are fabulous here,” she says, loud enough that Granny definitely hears her and goes back to polishing some glassware. She knows not to mess with Granny; she’s heard a lot of stories about her over the years, and possibly the least fanciful one was that she once challenged the Chief of Police to a bareknuckle boxing match and knocked him clean out in the first five seconds.</p><p>Emma finishes her drink and she can’t help but notice Regina’s mostly untouched glass. She winces as there’s another cheer from the direction of the dart boards.</p><p>“I think everyone else has been held up. You want to get out of here, go somewhere that might be a little more your speed? The others can always join us later.”</p><p>She tries not to laugh at the grateful look Regina gives her at the suggestion.</p><p>“Perhaps somewhere where the wine list extends a little longer than just a single line on the menu that reads <em>‘wine’ </em>without even specifying if it’s red or white.”</p><p>“I think that can be arranged. I know a place not too far from here.”</p><p>They walk out of the bar and Emma’s sure there’s a trail of gossip forming in their wake. No doubt she’ll get ribbed about it the next time she’s in there for a drink.</p><p>She leads Regina a couple of blocks and she pauses in front of an unmarked door that leads to a not particularly well-maintained staircase. At Regina’s sceptical look, Emma smiles and says, “Trust me. I think you’ll like it here.”</p><p>Regina follows her down the stairs and Emma’s a little tickled when the scepticism on her face transforms into surprise.</p><p>She leads Regina to her favourite booth at the back of the room and they sit down, a waiter joining them almost instantly.</p><p>“I wouldn’t have taken you for a jazz fan,” Regina says, once they’ve ordered their drinks.</p><p>“What, you thought my life consisted of drinking Budweiser in sports bars, watching football and going to monster truck rallies?”</p><p>Regina frowns. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if some of that was true, but to be honest I don’t know what I thought. Just not this.”</p><p>“I’ll admit, you won’t find me wandering through art galleries in my spare time, or going to the opera any time soon. After all, I’m not sure the dress code extends to jeans and leather jackets. But I do like jazz. I like the simplicity of listening to it.”</p><p>“Simplicity and jazz aren’t exactly two words I’d rush to associate,” Regina says drily.</p><p>Emma shakes her head. “Don’t get me wrong, the music’s complicated. But you can be sure of one thing: it’s either going to be incredible, or incredibly terrible. There’s no in between.”</p><p>Regina peers at her like she’s some kind of previously undiscovered creature. “I still can’t quite reconcile you and jazz.”</p><p>Emma laughs. “I’m going to choose not to be insulted and instead tell you the not very interesting story of how I got into jazz.”</p><p>Regina leans in closer, close enough that they’re almost touching and Emma can’t help but be aware of the small but seemingly unbridgeable chasm between them. “I look forward to hearing this unlikely tale.”</p><p>“One of the foster homes I lived in as a teenager, the carer was really into jazz. She’d have records playing all the time. Honestly, I wasn’t really into it back then.”</p><p>“You were in foster care? I didn’t realise.”</p><p>Emma gives her a wry smile. “Well I don’t exactly lead with that when I meet people.”</p><p>“Is that how you came to know Henry?”</p><p>“Kinda. I had a mentor when I was a teenager. She worked as a bail bondsperson and she’s probably the only reason I never actually landed in juvie. I felt like I needed to pay it forward.”</p><p>Emma takes a sip of her drink and continues.</p><p>“Anyway, none of that really explains how I got into jazz, does it? I found this place when I was working a case a couple of years after I came out of the academy. I’d just heard my foster mother had died and I guess it just reminds me of one of the happier times in my childhood.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Regina says, and there’s a hand on top of hers just for a moment, warm and comforting.</p><p>Emma closes her eyes for a moment, accepts the touch, but it’s too much. She stands up abruptly. “I’m going to use the bathroom.”</p><p>She walks away from the table, needing a moment to compose herself more than anything else. She’s always been private about a lot of details about her past and she’s just told Regina more about herself in the last few minutes than she has almost anyone else in the last few years. She’s never been great at dating, at opening herself up to people and possibilities and even the friends she has she tends to keep at a distance. She’s always been able to use work as an excuse, a way to keep herself from getting close to anyone, but for once, work is the catalyst bringing them together.</p><p>Bringing Regina here, knowing the layout of the seating, the intimacy it invites, the mood of the place and what it means to her feels like a deliberate step towards something she’s not sure she should be pursuing. She’s never brought Mulan or Neal or Lance here and she knows she never would. But somehow, despite all the reasons she knows she shouldn’t, she wants to let Regina see this side of her.  </p><p>*****</p><p>Regina watches Emma go and wonders if she’s pushed too far. She hopes she hasn’t because more and more, she’s finding she values the time she gets to spend with Emma. She’s known for a while that there’s a physical attraction there, but she’s finding it increasingly hard to deny that there’s something more than that.</p><p>It’s been a long time since she’s had something uncomplicated, something that doesn’t feel like hard work. And maybe Emma’s still complicated – they work together, after all – but there’s a lot about her company that Regina finds surprisingly easy.</p><p>She’s lost in thought and almost doesn’t notice Emma’s return with two more drinks. Emma slides on to the bench seat beside her, and leans in, close enough that their arms are touching and she can feel the faint creak of Emma’s leather jacket every time she moves.</p><p>She shivers a little and Emma shifts closer.</p><p>“Are you cold?”</p><p>Regina shakes her head. “Just enjoying the music.”</p><p>“You know, I like to come here to people-watch, sometimes. You’d be surprised how many bad first dates you get to see play out.” Emma points subtly to a table to the left of stage. “Like those two. She keeps checking her watch and he’s definitely pretending to be interested in the music.”</p><p>Regina wonders what someone watching the two of them would think, whether they’d see two work colleagues having a drink together, or something else, something more.</p><p>“What about those two?” She points to a couple at another table to try and distract herself from her thoughts.</p><p>Emma contemplates the pair for a moment. “Significant others of members of the band that don’t particularly like each other, but also don’t have a choice but to spend time together.”</p><p>“That seems oddly specific.”</p><p>Emma laughs. “I cheated on that one. I kinda already know who they are.”</p><p>“And those two?” Regina asks, the words catching a little in her throat. The table Regina picks out this time has two women leaning in close, a thousand not quite casual points of contact between them. They look lost in each other and Regina suddenly aches for what they have.  </p><p>She knows why she picked that table; she suspects Emma likes women, but she doesn’t know for sure and she wants to see Emma’s reaction.</p><p>Emma leans in closer, her breath tickling Regina’s ear. “Not a first date, but still something new. They’re both thinking that they want to get out of here, but neither of them is brave enough to make the first move.”</p><p>She feels warm, too warm, and she wants to turn to Emma and say maybe they should get out of here too. It’s been a long time since she’s done this kind of thing, but she’s almost certain that Emma’s flirting with her, and the thought of it is like liquid fire in her veins.</p><p>Regina downs half of her drink in one go and decides that maybe this isn’t a game she should be playing tonight. She clears her throat and shifts away from Emma enough that she can’t feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her suit jacket.</p><p>Emma must sense the small distance Regina has placed between them, because there’s a change in her voice and she shifts away from the game they’ve been playing for the last few minutes.</p><p>“Is… is there someone else in the picture, or are you planning to go it alone? With Henry, I mean.”</p><p>“I am very much alone,” Regina says, “and I don’t see that changing any time soon. I don’t exactly have people beating down my door to ask me out, other than the very eligible bachelors my mother tries to set me up with periodically.”</p><p>“And why not?”</p><p>“I don’t know. Maybe the part where I’m a recently divorced workaholic in my late thirties,” Regina says, trying to sound self-deprecating but mostly just telling the truth.</p><p>“You were married?”</p><p>“Thankfully not any longer.”</p><p>“Did it end badly?”</p><p>Regina laughs bitterly. “It started badly. It ended worse. I didn’t even want to get married in the first place.”</p><p>“So why did you?”</p><p>“It’s complicated.” Regina swirls the remaining liquid in her glass contemplatively. “Let’s just say I didn’t really feel like I had a choice and leave it there. And truthfully, I’m not sure there’s enough alcohol in the world to make me want to think or talk about it any more than that tonight.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Emma says, and she has a look on her face like puppy that’s chewed up her owner’s favourite shoes and then peed on them.</p><p>Regina covers Emma’s hand with her own for a moment and smiles tightly. “It’s fine.” She forces herself to let go, not to let the touch linger, as much as she wants it to.</p><p>“Do you want another drink, or…” Emma yawns widely. “I’m sorry. I haven’t had much sleep lately.”</p><p>Regina checks her watch for the first time and realises just how late it’s gotten without her even noticing. “Maybe we should call it a night,” she says, even though she’s reluctant to let go of whatever this is.</p><p>They walk out on to the street and Emma flags down a passing taxi, bowing a little mockingly. “Your chariot awaits.”</p><p>“We could share a taxi.” Regina’s suddenly not ready for the evening to be over. She wonders if all of this will be a momentary lapse in their professional relationship, never to be recreated, or if she’s imagining something that’s not actually there.</p><p>“Somehow, I doubt we live anywhere near each other,” Emma says and Regina knows she’s right.</p><p>There’s a brief moment of indecision as Regina’s about to get into the cab. She thinks about leaning in for a brief hug or a kiss on the cheek, but she wonders if Emma would feel like that was crossing a line. The moment passes and she can sense the impatience of the driver waiting for her to get in.</p><p>Emma opens the door and then there’s a gentle hand on her upper arm, guiding her into the backseat of the taxi, lingering on her shoulder for a moment longer than necessary. She’s left feeling strangely cold and bereft as Emma takes her hand away. “Good night.”</p><p>She buckles in and Emma shuts the door behind her. She turns as they drive off to watch Emma as long as she can.</p><p>When she gets home, her apartment feels colder and emptier than usual. She pours herself another drink and sips it slowly in her dark living room and wonders what might have been if she’d been a little braver.</p><p>She gets to sleep eventually and wakes up late, before remembering that she’s supposed to be having breakfast with Marian, a plan she’d made well before this morning’s hangover had even been a shadow of a possibility.</p><p>She hurries to the café, surprised to find that she’s beaten Marian there. The staff seat her and a few minutes later, Marian arrives looking decidedly underslept, her hair pulled into a messy bun.</p><p>“Working late?” Regina asks.</p><p>“Something like that,” she answers, a little too cheerfully for someone who looks like she’s been awake the wrong side of sunrise.</p><p>They order coffees and by the time the second one arrives, Regina’s feeling almost human again. Almost, but not quite, because she doesn’t manage to check the impulse that makes her ask Marian “What do you think about cops and lawyers dating?”</p><p>Marian tilts her head like she’s not sure where the question is coming from. “Is this an abstract question or was there someone specific you had in mind? Wait, is it Leroy from traffic control?”</p><p>“I don’t even know who Leroy is. Are you going to answer the question?” Regina asks irritably.</p><p>“Well given that I asked out one of your detectives last week and just spent a rather pleasant night in her company, I’d have to say on the balance of things, I’m in favour.”</p><p>For a moment, Regina’s struck with jealousy at the possibility that Marian might have asked out Emma. It must show on her face, because Marian smirks and says, “Don’t worry. I didn’t ask out <em>your</em> detective.”</p><p>“I don’t have a detective,” Regina snaps.</p><p>Marian nods. “I can see that. I think you’d be a lot less cranky if you did.”</p><p>Regina can’t think of a suitable retort to that, because if she’s honest, she probably would be a lot less cranky. “You seem very unsurprised by all of this.”</p><p>“People talk,” Marian says and shrugs her shoulders. “And from what I’ve heard, you two have enough sexual tension to burn down the entire precinct.”</p><p>“But we work together.”</p><p>“And you can work around that. The important thing is, I think after everything you’ve been through, you deserve someone who’ll make you happy. So what do you think? Would she make you happy?”</p><p>Regina doesn’t have to think about it for very long, because every instinct she has is telling her yes.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emma’s flicking through the news on her phone when a story catches her eye.</p><p>“Looks like someone leaked the Grand Jury outcome for the Jones case to the press,” she says. “They’re reporting on the charge and apparently he’s just been dropped from a film he was slated for next year.”</p><p>“How very sad for him,” Mulan says in a way that makes it clear she’s not even the slightest bit sad. “You should probably hurry over to DA’s office and tell Mills,” Mulan says, and there’s an overlay to her voice that Emma can’t quite place.  </p><p>“I’m sure Regina’s got google alerts on her phone.”</p><p>“But I’ll bet she’d prefer you to bring her the news directly.”</p><p>Emma frowns, not sure where Mulan’s going with this and Mulan sighs exaggeratedly. “Well if you’re not going to bite… So how’s your little crush on our ADA going, anyway?”</p><p>“I do not have a crush.” At Mulan’s long, unrelentingly sceptical look, Emma breaks. “Okay, fine, I totally do.”</p><p>“Good. Acceptance is the first step towards you not dying sad and alone, buried under a collapsed pile of case files.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter, though. She’s straight. I found out she used to be married.”</p><p>Mulan laughs. “There’s no way that woman is straight. I saw her almost trip over her own feet the other day when she spotted you bending over to tie up your boots.”</p><p>“There was probably some loose carpet, or something. They haven’t renovated this place in years.” Emma looks around the bullpen and gestures at a multitude of threadbare patches on the floor.</p><p>“Loose carpet or not, Marian told me she’s definitely not.”</p><p>“And how would you know what Marian thinks, anyway?” Emma’s momentarily distracted from her own hopeless pining by the mention of the subject of Mulan’s own.</p><p>“Let’s just say I was thoroughly cross-examined by her the other night,” Mulan says, looking unbearably smug.</p><p>Emma almost falls off her chair. “You finally asked her out? How did I not know about this?”</p><p>“Of course not. I’m not insane. <em>She</em> asked <em>me</em>.”</p><p>Emma narrows her eyes. “Is that where you were when you were supposed to come to drinks the other night?”</p><p>Mulan smirks. “I can neither confirm nor deny. How was that, anyway?”</p><p>“Was the whole thing a set-up?”</p><p>Mulan smiles beatifically and doesn’t answer.</p><p>“Fine, have it your way.” Emma sighs. “Honestly, I don’t know. We stayed out until after midnight and we talked. A lot. But I don’t think there’s anything there on her side. I think she’s just someone who’s moved to a new city looking for a friend.”</p><p>“Friends? Is that what kids are calling it these days? I’ve seen the way you two look at each other and there’s nothing friendly about it.”</p><p>*****</p><p>The news of Killian Jones’ alleged crime proves to be the catalyst they needed. It only takes a couple of days before the calls start rolling in, and suddenly there’s another half a dozen possible victims coming forward across a couple of jurisdictions.</p><p>Emma wishes they’d been able to haul him in weeks ago in front of the press, because she’d been sure back then there would be more victims, but at least they’re finally getting somewhere. She offers a silent thanks to whoever had leaked the story, because they might just be gaining enough momentum to make sure he never has a chance to hurt anyone ever again.</p><p>She’s reading the statements of the latest victims when a detail jumps out at her.</p><p>“Did we test the earring?” she asks Neal.</p><p>“Yeah. It came back with Sarah’s DNA, but nothing else. Confirms she was in his room, but that’s something we already knew.”</p><p>Emma frowns, because there’s something niggling at her. “Was Sarah wearing an earring when we first interviewed her?”</p><p>Neal shrugs. “Don’t know. Maybe.”</p><p>Emma goes to the filing cabinet and pulls a copy of the case file. She flicks through until she lands on a photograph of Sarah’s injuries.</p><p>“She’s not wearing earrings. Both ears pierced, but neither of them have an earring in. We know one of them must have been torn out in the attack, but what about the other one? What if that’s the one we found?”</p><p>Neal looks at her, and she can see he’s not quite there yet. “What are you getting at?”</p><p>“What I’m getting at is, what if he takes trophies?” The more she thinks about it, the more certain she is. “One of the other victims mentions him taking one of her earrings from her bedside table. And there’s another one who has similar injuries to Sarah’s.”</p><p>She can see Neal’s on the same page now. “We find the earrings and we nail the bastard.”</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>“The only problem is going to be finding them. This guy has houses in four different states and spends half his year on location in Canada.”</p><p>Emma shakes her head. “No. He’s arrogant and he’s sure we’re not going to get him. He’ll keep them close. Wherever he is, they won’t be far away.”</p><p>It doesn’t take long to get the warrant they need, and Emma’s suspicions prove correct. They find a collection of earrings hidden in the lining of a jacket in his closet. It’s the one he was wearing the first time they pulled him in for an interview.</p><p>“We got him.”</p><p>She knows she’ll sleep well tonight.</p><p>*****</p><p>Emma’s just sitting down to an incredibly appetising microwave dinner when there’s a loud knock at her front door.</p><p>She opens the door to find Regina standing outside looking absolutely frantic with worry.</p><p>Emma doesn’t even get a chance to ask Regina what’s wrong before she blurts out, “Henry’s missing.”</p><p>“Wait. What?”</p><p>“I was supposed to have a meeting with him and the adoption committee today, but he wasn’t there. They told me he was probably just nervous, but I knew something was wrong.”</p><p>“How long ago?”</p><p>“As far as I can tell, it’s only been a few hours. He didn’t come home after school today.”</p><p>The grumbling sick feeling she’s had in her stomach the last couple of weeks turns into a torrent of worry and she has to physically hold herself up on the doorframe, because for a moment she’s not sure her legs can hold her.</p><p>“Maybe he’s just gone out looking for Nick. He was angry the last time I saw him that nothing had changed.”</p><p>She knows as soon as she says it that it’s a lie she’s trying to tell them both and she can see it in Regina’s face that she’s not falling for it for a second either. She can’t say exactly how, but she knows Henry’s in trouble.</p><p>“Come in for a second while I get my things.”</p><p>She grabs a jacket, her badge, weapon and keys and heads back to where Regina is still standing outside the front door.</p><p>She’s shaking and she looks every bit as distraught as Emma feels. Emma steps forward and pulls her into a tight hug. “It’s going to be okay,” she says, trying to persuade herself as much as Regina.</p><p>They cling to each other for long moments before Regina finally breaks the embrace. “Come on, let’s go.”</p><p>They head to the group home first, to check Henry’s room for any clues about where he might have gone and talk to the other kids.</p><p>Henry’s room is small and mostly bare and he shares it with one other boy, who’s sitting on the other bed watching them intently.</p><p>“Hey kid, what’s your name?”</p><p>“Devin.”</p><p>“Do you know where Henry is?”</p><p>“No. Who are you?” he asks suspiciously.</p><p>“I’m his friend, Emma.”</p><p>Devin relaxes visibly at that and Emma can only assume Henry’s mentioned her. She figures she might just get something out of now, if he trusts her at least a little.</p><p>“When did you last see him?”</p><p>“At school at recess.”</p><p>There’s a storybook open on Henry’s bed, one that Emma had given him as a present for his last birthday. Emma looks at the page it’s open to, the story of Peter Pan.</p><p>“He keeps his diary inside the mattress,” the boy helpfully offers. “There’s a tear in the mattress cover about halfway up. I read it sometimes when he’s not here, even though it’s mostly weird, boring stuff.”</p><p>Emma kneels down and feels around. She jabs her finger on a mattress spring and lets out a curse that she immediately apologises for when she remembers not everyone in the room is old enough to vote. After a moment, she finds the diary and pulls it out.</p><p>She sits on the edge of the bed and flicks through the pages, Regina leaning against her to read over her shoulder.</p><p>Most of it seems to be in a code that isn’t immediately obvious to her, but she also recognises fragments about Nick and each of the other missing boys. Finally, there are further references to Peter Pan.</p><p>“He seems fixated on Peter Pan for some reason,” Emma says.</p><p>“Patron saint of Lost Boys, I suppose.”</p><p>“There’s a statue of Peter Pan in Carl Schulz Park,” Regina says. “Maybe he went there.”</p><p>Emma frowns, testing the idea. “We could check it out. It doesn’t really seem to fit with anything, though.”</p><p>They make their way through the other children and foster carers, looking for other clues. By the time they leave, she has a list of all the kids Henry hangs out with, where they go and what they do. Most of it she’d already known, but it’s something to start with.</p><p>*****</p><p>Regina spends the night pacing, worrying about Henry. She knows it’s barely been a day, but she’s been in the job long enough to know that with each hour that passes, their chances of finding him safe and well are steadily diminished. Good old-fashioned detective work hasn’t been enough to do the trick with Henry or any of the other boys who’ve gone missing, so she decides it’s time to take another path. She tries each of the scrying spells she knows, but her magic is so weak, so heavily bound that it might as well not exist. By the time she’s exhausted every option she knows, her head and her chest are aching and her muscles are shaking with fatigue.</p><p>She collapses onto her sofa, frustrated tears pricking at her eyes as she contemplates the only option left to her.</p><p>She’s too tired to drive, so she calls a rideshare. She stands on the doorstep for a long moment, wondering if she’s doing the right thing, before finally ringing the bell.</p><p>“Regina dear, what a lovely surprise,” Cora says. “Would you like some tea?”</p><p>Regina shakes her head. “This isn’t a social visit.”</p><p>“Of course not. But you will sit down and drink some tea,” she says in a tone that doesn’t allow for argument.</p><p>Regina grits her teeth, because she’s coming here cap in hand, desperate enough to beg her mother for help, even though she knows the price will be high.</p><p>She sits as patiently as she can and sips her tea, allowing her mother to set the pace, because she knows that if she doesn’t bend to her whims whatever chance she has will be lost. Finally, after two cups of tea that feel like acid on Regina’s empty stomach, she’s finally ready to talk business.</p><p>“Now. What is it you want from me?”</p><p>“I want you to help me find Henry.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“The boy I wanted to adopt.”</p><p>“And why would I want to do that?” she asks in a voice as sweet as antifreeze.</p><p>Regina clenches her jaw, biting down on her anger and despair. She knows she’s signing away every last piece of freedom she has, but she’s willing to pay that price. “Because I’ll do whatever it takes to bring him home.”</p><p>Her mother appears to weigh up her request and for a moment, Regina wonders if for once in her life, her mother will do something kind. Those hopes are dashed immediately. “I could find a way to bring him home, but not to <em>your</em> home.”</p><p>She understands immediately what her mother is asking and she feels like her heart is being torn in two. But she’s not sure she could live with the regret if she hadn’t done everything in her power to ensure Henry’s safe return.</p><p>“If that’s the price to keep him safe, then I’ll pay it.”</p><p>She knows there’ll be more to it than that, but she’s willing to cross that bridge when she comes to it.</p><p>Her mother nods. “Very well. This will take some time. You should leave now.”</p><p>There’s no point in arguing or asking when. She knows when she’s been dismissed. She makes her way home to fitfully wait for her mother to perform whatever dark ritual is required.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Emma’s eyes are getting heavy, but she forces herself to move onto the next tape. She’s been awake going on 48 hours and she can’t remember if she changed her clothes today or not. It doesn’t matter, though, because she’s still got leads to chase, still got evidence to comb through.</p><p>“Swan.” Lieutenant Nolan emerges from his office. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to go home and get some rest six hours ago.”</p><p>“I did.”</p><p>He stands with his arms folded, surveying her desk like it’s an active crime scene.</p><p>“Drinking six coffees and eating some donuts doesn’t count as getting some rest. I don’t want to see you again until you’ve had at least 12 hours off.”</p><p>She knows he’s right, has said the same herself to Mulan, to Neal and to Lance. But this is different. This is Henry and she’s not going to rest until she finds him safe and sound. She starts to say as much, but Nolan cuts her off.</p><p>“No buts,” he says. “There are other detectives on this squad who are just as capable as you. We all know the stakes and we’re all committed to bringing him home safely.”</p><p>“Yes Lieutenant,” she says and he turns and heads back towards his office.</p><p>She picks up her bag and starts to shove some reports into it.</p><p>“And don’t think I don’t know you’re trying to take work home with you.” He turns around again. “Put it back. You’re not going to be any use to him until you’ve had some sleep.”</p><p>She heads home and paces around her living room for a while, not sure that even as fatigued as she is that she’ll be able to sleep. She finally forces herself to lie down and before she knows it, she’s falling into an exhausted sleep.</p><p>She’s not sure how long she sleeps for, but her dreams are vivid and she’s left with the echo of Henry’s voice calling to her, begging her to come. She’s hit by an overwhelming urge to get up and go out, even though she’s not sure where. She has just enough presence of mind to grab her things before she walks out of her apartment.</p><p>There’s a warmth radiating below her breastbone and an answering warmth from the pendant around her neck that pulls her forward until she finds herself standing outside the Public Library.</p><p>She stands and stares at the fountain, the steady trickle of water humming in the background, unsure of why she’s here or whether she’s still dreaming. The pendant around her neck now feels like a brand burning into her skin and she wraps it in her fist trying to ease the pain.</p><p>She barely registers the footsteps approaching, not until she hears a surprised voice next to her. “Emma, what are you doing here?”</p><p>“Regina?” She turns around to face her, registering the fact that Regina looks as unprepared to be out in the middle of the night as she is. There’s a chill in the air and neither of them are quite dressed for the weather. “I don’t know. I just felt drawn to this place. It’s like I couldn’t stop my feet from carrying me here.”</p><p>“The same thing happened to me,” Regina says. She’s looking at Emma strangely as if she can’t quite believe what she’s seeing and then she’s reaching out, brushing her fingers across Emma’s breastbone and the fire that was contained is a conflagration. Everything lights up for a moment, brighter than she can stand, and when she can see again there’s an ember smouldering deep in Regina’s chest.</p><p>Emma looks at her wonderingly. “You have magic. I didn’t see it before, but I do now.”</p><p>“Barely enough to light a candle,” Regina says, her mouth twisting into something that’s not quite a smile. “Certainly not enough to be of use.”</p><p>Emma reaches out, mirroring Regina’s movements from a moment earlier and the ember that was there suddenly harbours a small but healthy flame.</p><p>“Did you do this?” Emma asks, because she still doesn’t understand how she came to be here.</p><p>“I don’t think so. I asked my mother for help, but this doesn’t feel like her doing. And I don’t have enough power to do something like this.”</p><p>Regina looks past her and points. “I think we’re supposed to go that way.”</p><p>Emma turns around. The water in the fountain is gone, replaced with a dark, churning, viscous liquid. On instinct, Emma reaches out, runs a finger though it and it morphs around her, drawing her in. She lets herself be taken and feels Regina follow soon after.</p><p>The transition is disorienting and when Emma’s aware again, she finds she and Regina are tangled in a heap on a cold stone floor in a cavernous room. There’s water running down the walls and only the faintest hint of light to allow them to see. She pulls herself up from the floor and then offers Regina a hand up.</p><p>There’s a shuffling movement from one of the corners and Emma strains to see the coming threat and to brace herself for it.</p><p>Even then, she’s not entirely prepared for the small, urgent mass that slams into her midsection, throwing arms around her waist.</p><p>“You came for me? You both came.”</p><p>“Henry?” Regina says softly, with the most tentatively hopeful voice. “Of course we came for you.”</p><p>He holds on for a long, perfect moment before stepping back, glancing shyly at Regina. “I wasn’t sure that you’d hear me.”</p><p>“How did you get here?” Emma asks, even though she’s pretty sure the more important question is how do they get out of here?</p><p>“I followed him through when he took another boy. You can’t see him because you’re too old.”</p><p>“Followed who?”</p><p>Henry sighs impatiently, as though she’s incredibly slow to catch on. “Peter Pan. Now come on, we need to save the others from him.”</p><p>She hadn’t noticed it before, but Henry’s clutching a necklace, holding it tight, close to his chest. At first glance, it looks like one of those tacky friendship necklaces of a heart split down the middle, but when Emma looks again, she sees there’s more to it.</p><p>“You have my mother’s necklace,” Regina says, frowning like she doesn’t quite understand what she’s seeing and Emma wonders if it looks the same to her.</p><p>Henry holds out the necklace, waits for Regina to take it. “She took something from you, or tried to, anyway. But she couldn’t take it all and she couldn’t use what she’d taken, so I stole it when she wasn’t looking.”</p><p>“I never understood why she always wore this ugly, tacky thing,” Regina says as she takes it. It’s on a tarnished silver chain and Regina lets it dangle over her fingers. She makes as if to throw it away and Emma rushes to stop her, catches Regina’s hand between her own.</p><p>“Let me take it for a moment,” Emma says and Regina grudgingly drops it into her hand.</p><p>It’s warm in Emma’s palm, warm and alive and now that she knows what she’s looking for, she thinks she knows what to do. Before she gets the chance, she’s sent flying across the room and she comes to a stop, crumpled against the wall.</p><p>*****</p><p>For the second time, Regina’s senses are utterly disrupted, this time by a wave of energy, of darkness that is so characteristic. She’s forced to her knees and when she’s able to look up, her suspicions are confirmed.</p><p>“Hello Mother.”</p><p>“Regina dear, so glad you could join me.” Cora smiles widely. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the show.”</p><p>“What are you doing?”</p><p>“Haven’t you guessed yet?” Cora shakes her head. “Of course not. You always were a little slow to pick up on things.”</p><p>“Why don’t you tell me all about your evil plan, Mother?” she says.</p><p>“Evil? You’ll understand when you start to grow old, when time catches up with you. Then you’ll understand why I had my puppet bring these boys to me, so perfect and brimming with vitality.”</p><p>There’s a shadow flickering at the edge of her peripheral vision and she hears ethereal laughter. She presumes this is the puppet her mother is talking about. She tries not to let it distract her, even when it dances and swoops about, instead focusing on keeping her mother talking and hoping Emma has the sense to take Henry and get out of here.</p><p>“What are you going to do to them?” She doesn’t want to know, not really, but she knows her mother will want to torment her with every horrifying detail and that might be the few precious seconds and the distraction they need to get away.</p><p>“I’m going to devour them.”</p><p> She chances a look back. Emma’s slowly climbing to her feet, battered and bruised, while Henry’s held in place by invisible restraints. She can feel her mother’s magic plucking at Henry, trying to unravel him. She realises that all the talk is futile and there’s only one way this is going to end. She throws herself in the way, takes the brunt of her power.</p><p>“I won’t let you hurt them,” she says, teeth gritted against the pain.</p><p>“And just how are you planning to stop me? You’re weak, just like your father was. And just like him, I could end you with a single thought.”</p><p>Her mother’s magic is tearing her apart, piece by piece and she’s not sure how much longer she can hold herself together. Her body feels so foreign, so distant that she almost doesn’t notice Emma’s hand slip into her own, but then it’s there warm and solid, anchoring her to herself.</p><p>“You don’t have to do this alone,” Emma says in a whisper designed only for her ears and she holds onto that too. Then Emma’s curling Regina’s fingers around something that she dimly recognises as her mother’s necklace, urging her hand up towards her chest. For a moment, Regina feels like she can’t breathe, and then there’s light and life and warmth rushing through her and she feels like she’s been restored.</p><p>It’s over after that.</p><p>There’s 35 years of bottled rage and pain and caged-in power unleashed in an instant and this time it’s her mother on her knees, being stripped away until there’s nothing more than a weak, ordinary old woman left in front of her.</p><p>It’s strange to see her like this, the object of all of Regina’s hatred and frustration, made weak and vulnerable. She can’t help but stare and once again it’s Emma who brings her back to herself.</p><p>“We need to get out of here,” she says, her voice low and urgent. “I think this whole place is going to come crashing down around us.”</p><p>She becomes aware then of the rumble around them, the way the cold stone of the ground suddenly feels like something approaching a liquid.</p><p>“Let’s go.”</p><p>Emma hesitates for a moment. “What do we do with her?” she asks, glancing over at Cora.</p><p>Regina’s lip curls with disgust. “Leave her. She’ll find a way out. She always does.”</p><p>They race through the cavern, following Henry’s lead, until they reach the imprisoned boys, working quickly to free them.</p><p>“How do we get out of here?” It suddenly occurs to Regina that they hadn’t exactly come through a door and there’s no clear exit in sight.</p><p>“Do you trust me?” Emma asks, taking Regina’s hand again.</p><p>“Yes.” There’s no hesitation in her response. “With my life.”</p><p>“Okay, I need everyone to hold hands,” Emma shouts, her voice barely audible over the unstable rock around them.</p><p>Then, they’re diving into dark water and Regina can feel it filling her lungs, stealing her breath, until suddenly they’re on land again.</p><p>*****</p><p>Regina leans against the doorway of her kitchen and looks out over the collection of boys currently fast asleep in her living room in all sorts of makeshift bedding. None of them had been willing to return to their homes and in the end, Regina figured it was easier to let them all get some sleep and figure it out in the morning. She tiptoes around them, carefully stepping over an outstretched leg until she reaches the stairs.</p><p>Emma emerges from her bathroom, freshly showered and wearing one of her robes. She hadn’t been willing to leave until she was sure that everyone was going to be safe, so Regina had sighed and invited her to join the most bizarre slumber party in history, because what was one more person in her apartment, running out the hot water.</p><p>There’s an ache in Regina’s chest when she looks at her, an echo of the magic they’d shared and the way that Emma had helped make her whole again. It’s more than that though, and all the feelings that have been building over days and weeks have coalesced into something tangible. She has words for them now, words she hasn’t spoken out loud and isn’t sure she should.</p><p>Emma must sense Regina’s eyes on her because she looks over and smiles, soft and vulnerable. The ache in Regina’s chest intensifies until she can barely keep it from spilling out. She looks down at her feet, tries to compose herself, an action that’s utterly futile when Emma crosses the distance between them and takes her hand and starts leading her towards the bedroom.</p><p>“You should get some rest. I can keep an eye on the kids while you sleep.”</p><p>Regina raises an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you slept?” Emma’s suddenly looking everywhere but at her and Regina rolls her eyes. “If your answer’s any less than 2 days ago, I’ll know you’re lying.”</p><p>“You know, that’s actually my trick. Knowing when people are lying, that is.”</p><p>“Oh really? Now I think you’re avoiding the question. Would I be right in thinking that?”</p><p>“No?” Emma says unconvincingly. “Okay, maybe.”</p><p>“Do you think perhaps you should get some sleep too?”</p><p>Emma shrugs. “I’d offer to take your couch, but I think it might be lost forever. I can stay awake. I’ve been on enough stakeouts to know the secret is lots of coffee and a bladder the size of the Goodyear Blimp.”</p><p>Regina rolls her eyes. “I think you might actually be delirious. Come on, we’ll both get some sleep.”</p><p>Emma follows Regina into her bedroom and slides in under the covers at Regina’s prompting. She doesn’t immediately go to sleep, instead propping herself up on an elbow and looking over at Regina.</p><p>“Can I ask you a question?”</p><p>“You already did,” Regina says a little irritably, because she was ready for sleep about 2 days ago.</p><p>“Do things feel different now? Do you feel more?”</p><p>Regina thinks about that for a long moment, because it seems like she’s been missing a part of herself for so long that she’s learned to live without it and she doesn’t quite know what it means yet. “I don’t think so. The things I feel for Henry are the same things I felt before. And,” she breaks off, looking over at Emma and feels that ache build in her chest again until this time she can’t stop it from spilling out. She closes her eyes, because she’s not sure she can bear to see the answer in Emma’s face. “And the things I feel for you were just as real then as they are now.”</p><p>There’s the gentle brush of a thumb along the line of her jaw and then she opens her eyes to see Emma looking at her, her face filled with wonder.</p><p>“I was hoping you’d say that,” Emma murmurs and the tentative caress of her hand turns purposeful.</p><p>Regina’s not sure which one of them closes the space between them, and she’s not sure it matters, because Emma’s lips are on hers and hers are on Emma’s and everything between them is light and warmth.</p><p>Eventually they have to come up for air and Emma looks at her as though she’s still not sure she’s real. “That was magic. You’re magic,” she says, her voice soft.</p><p>“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Regina admits and then she leans in and kisses Emma again, just because she can.</p><p>Soon though, they’re both stifling yawns, both trying to fight off sleep, caught up as they are in the newness of each other.</p><p>Emma falls asleep before she does and Regina watches her for a while, taking in every detail that she can, because she’s afraid that when they both wake up, the dream will be over. There’s the golden hair splayed out on her pillow, still slightly damp from her shower and a hint of a frown creasing her brow. Regina can’t help but reach out and smooth the lines of her frown with the pad of her thumb. Emma sighs a little, before her face relaxes and the corners of her lips tip upward in a smile.</p><p>She reaches for Regina sleepily, with a mumbled <em>go to sleep</em>, and pulls her closer until she’s safely tucked under Emma’s arm, her back pulled flush against Emma’s chest.</p><p>*****</p><p>The phone call from Mulan wakes them both up. Emma fumbles for her phone while Regina glares sleepily at her.</p><p>“I was supposed to be at the precinct half an hour ago,” she says when she’s finished talking to Mulan. “I’m not going to have time to go home first.”</p><p>Emma reluctantly sits up and takes stock. After the confrontation with Cora, Emma’s sore in places she didn’t know could be sore. And her outfit from yesterday looks like she’s been in the trenches of World War 3.</p><p>She looks pleadingly at Regina, and before she can ask, Regina sighs and says, “You can borrow a shirt.”</p><p>“Are you going into the office today?” Emma asks, mostly because she’s hoping she can find an excuse to see Regina again today.</p><p>“I have to. There’s a pre-trial hearing tomorrow morning that I’ve got to prepare for.” Regina sighs. “But first I need to figure out what to do with the current residents of my living room, other than found a soccer team.”</p><p>“Could they stay here until I figure something out. I mean, how much trouble could they possibly get into in a couple of hours?” Emma realises as soon as she’s said it that it’s a ridiculous question and the eye-roll she gets from Regina cements it. “Wait, don’t answer that. We already know how much trouble they can get into.”</p><p>Regina looks in her closet and emerges a moment later with a shirt. It’s blue silk and far more refined than anything Emma would ever wear, but she puts it on anyway.</p><p>Regina watches her do up the buttons, biting her lip. “You look good,” she says, stepping closer to Emma and smoothing the silk with her hands. Emma shivers a little at Regina’s touch and the whisper of silk against her skin. Regina looks at her appraisingly for a moment then undoes Emma’s top button. “You look really good,” she says, her voice a little husky, then she’s pushing Emma back against her closet door.</p><p>The kiss last night had been soft, tentative, soothing and healing after everything that had happened, but this morning is all about hunger, all about months of repressed want and need. She gasps as Regina’s hands clutch at the silk she’d just taken great care to smooth, crumpling it as she untucks the shirt and finds the skin of Emma’s back.</p><p>She knows she’s going to regret this all day, but she also knows that she doesn’t have a choice. She makes a conscious effort to slow the kiss down before pulling back, forcing herself to ignore the ache deep in her abdomen telling her to keep going, to ask for more.</p><p>“I wish we could stay here all day and pretend the world doesn’t exist, but we’ve both got responsibilities.”</p><p>Regina groans. “I don’t want to have responsibilities today. Can’t I go back to bed?” She pulls Emma back in for another kiss. “Can’t we go back to bed?”</p><p>Emma shakes her head reluctantly and they eventually make it downstairs. The Lost Boys seem to be making themselves completely at home, because the kitchen’s a complete disaster.</p><p>Regina sighs as she surveys the destruction. “You should get to work. I’ll try and clean up this bomb site.”</p><p>Henry’s sitting at the kitchen table intent on the bowl of cereal in front of him. Emma walks over and ruffles his hair. “I’ll see you later kid.”</p><p>He looks up and smiles, a little bit of milk dripping down his chin. She thinks maybe it’s the most content she’s ever seen him and she hopes things can stay this way.</p><p>She wades through the carnage of the living room and winces at the thought of the clean up ahead of Regina. Her apartment’s not exactly made for 5 teen and pre-teen boys.</p><p>She gives Regina one last longing look that she hopes communicates everything she needs to, then heads downstairs to get a taxi to work.</p><p>“Nice shirt,” Mulan says as soon as Emma walks into the precinct and Emma’s pretty sure she’s put two and two together and arrived at some kind of answer. “Did you buy it on your way in? Is that why you abandoned me to suffer through the monthly crime stats briefing all by myself this morning?”</p><p>“Emergency at home,” Emma says, and it’s not exactly untrue, because she’s pretty sure that fighting an evil Mayor and rescuing a bunch of kids who’d been taken by something that might have been Peter Pan counts as an emergency.</p><p>“An emergency, huh? Sounds serious,” Lance says, wandering over to join the conversation that he’s clearly been eavesdropping on.</p><p>“It was.”</p><p>She figures she’s gotten away with it until Lance asks, “Where did you get it?</p><p>Emma might be a human lie detector, but she’s hopeless at lying. She stumbles over an answer about buying it at a random shop on her way home from an appointment.</p><p>She can see that none of them are buying it, but she’s saved by Neal walking in with donuts, enough to keep everyone’s mouths full for long enough for them to forget their line of questioning.</p><p>She spends most of the morning catching up on paperwork and trying to figure out how to solve the problem of the Lost Boys being found. Henry’s easy enough, but the rest of them don’t want to go back where they were.</p><p>Mulan interrupts her avid contemplation to start to question her about the shirt again. Nolan emerges from his office, and Emma’s never been so grateful for one of his interruptions.</p><p>“I need someone to go see ADA Mills about getting a warrant for the Carter case.”</p><p>“I’ll do it,” Emma says a little too eagerly, partially to get away from Mulan’s interrogation, but mostly because even though it’s only been a few hours, she’s dying to see Regina again.</p><p>It takes her a moment to register what’s going on when Lance high-fives Mulan and Nolan starts smiling. “You owe me a hundred bucks,” Lance crows smugly.</p><p>Neal pulls his wallet out and hands Lance a couple of bills, before Lance turns to Mulan.</p><p>Mulan shakes her head. “You still owe me from our last bet.”</p><p>“What the hell is going on?”</p><p>She’s met with four innocent-looking faces.</p><p>“Okay, I don’t want to know. I’m going to see the ADA for that warrant.”</p><p>She ignores the heckling that in her wake and heads down to the DA’s offices.</p><p>“So I have to confess something,” Emma says when she walks into Regina’s office. “I think everyone at SVU knows there’s something going on between us.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“I volunteered to be the one to ask you for a warrant on the Carter case instead of being ordered.” In retrospect that had been stupid; she hadn’t even really worked the Carter case.</p><p>She’s expecting Regina to be angry, but she laughs instead. “I’m so scary that the big brave detectives of the Special Victims Unit draw straws not to come see me?”</p><p>“Maybe,” Emma says. “Okay, yes. But I’m more than happy to be the one who comes to ask you for all the warrants we need in the future.”</p><p>“Okay, let’s see what you’ve got,” Regina says in a way that has Emma not quite sure what she’s asking. There’s an undercurrent of flirtatiousness that she suspects would have made both their working lives far more pleasant if they’d arrived at that realisation earlier.  </p><p>“The case, I mean,” Regina says, because Emma’s still staring at her like a fool.</p><p>She reaches out a hand for the file Emma’s carrying and listens as she walks her through it.</p><p>Regina purses her lips as she thinks about it. “You know I’m going to have to interrupt Judge Drake’s Friday night poker game for this, right?”</p><p>“Is that a bad thing?”</p><p>Regina gives her a look that very clearly says yes. “Take a guess.”</p><p>“I guess I could find a way to make it up to you,” Emma says a little uncertainly, because everything about this is so new and she’s not sure if this conversation is supposed to be strictly work.</p><p>“Really?” Regina appears to contemplate the offer for a moment. “I’d need to hear the specifics of your offer,” Regina says in a tone that makes it evident that she’s more than willing to skirt that boundary.</p><p>“Maybe we could discuss it over dinner tonight, after you’ve bothered some judges?”</p><p>Regina smiles. “I think I could agree to those terms.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well done on making it through to the end. I know I'm relieved to have made it here. I hope some of you enjoyed it (and if you didn't you found something else awesome to read rather than slogging through to the end just to read this very underwhelming author's note). I know this was supposed to be SVU themed, but I couldn't resist throwing in a little magic here and there, so surprise, I guess.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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